Gemotions

The dust. That was the worst part. It settled on everything, coating the carefully dusted surfaces of her living room. Linda coughed, her throat scratchy.

She considered closing all the windows, but then the house would be stuffy. The workers had started at dawn, their voices a constant drone that grated on her nerves. They were already working on the new roof.

She poured herself a glass of wine, her hand shaking slightly. The world suddenly felt too loud, too chaotic. She didn't want to think about the increase in her electric bill, either.