Gemotions

The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the oak tree, creating shifting patterns on the picnic blanket. Maya lay back, her eyes tracing the branches overhead. The only sound was the gentle rustling of the leaves and the distant, almost imperceptible hum of the cicadas. She’d been enjoying this for a good hour. Suddenly, a piercing SCREECH sliced through the air.

Maya sat up with a jolt, her breath catching in her throat. The idyllic scene shattered. She turned towards the noise. Her new neighbor, Mr. Garcia, was tearing down his shed with a crowbar.

"Wonderful," she said dryly, pushing herself to her feet. The peacefulness that had settled over her a moment ago now seemed a distant memory, replaced by a knot of frustration.