Gemotions

The hammock swayed gently, a rhythmic pulse against the late afternoon sun. Sarah sighed, letting her eyes drift closed. A warm breeze, fragrant with honeysuckle, kissed her skin. The book in her lap remained unopened. She simply listened to the birdsong, a chorus of tiny melodies. Then, a sudden, jarring CRACK! splintered the quiet. Across the yard, Mr. Henderson had started ripping into his deck with a vengeance.

A sharp intake of breath escaped her. The tranquility that had settled over her minutes ago vanished. She sat up, her spine stiffening, the book sliding off her lap unnoticed. A low rumble of machinery now punctuated the chirping birds.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Sarah muttered, her fingers tightening into fists. The gentle swaying of the hammock now felt like a taunt.