Gemotions

The hum of the espresso machine grated on her nerves. She meticulously cleaned the kitchen, scrubbing the counters, wiping the appliances, the movements almost violent. The proximity of Mark’s planned lakeside BBQ, the same day as her intimate dinner party, was a pressure point she couldn't alleviate.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the tight knot in her chest. She needed to concentrate, to focus on the tasks at hand, yet her thoughts darted from one thing to another, never settling. She slammed the dish towel onto the counter.

The doorbell rang. It was her neighbor, holding a plate of cookies. She barely acknowledged them. "Thanks," she said quickly, before shutting the door. Her phone buzzed; another notification about Mark's party. She switched it off and walked to the piano, sat down and slammed her hands on the keys. A jumbled mess of notes filled the air. She stood, unable to stay at the instrument, and went outside.