Gemotions

The rhythmic thudding started promptly at seven, just as she was pouring her first cup of coffee. Each hammer blow seemed to echo in her chest, a physical manifestation of the emptiness inside. She let the coffee grow cold, the rich aroma suddenly unappealing. She stared out the kitchen window, watching the demolition across the way. Their house was being gutted, and she felt a corresponding upheaval within herself.

Later, she found herself listlessly scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of laughter, of shared meals, of a life that felt impossibly distant now. She swiped past them quickly, a wave of discomfort washing over her. The sound of the power saw intensified, a jarring counterpoint to the quiet desolation of her apartment.

She considered calling a friend, but the words felt heavy in her mouth, difficult to articulate. She stayed silent, the noise of the renovation a constant reminder of the changes she was trying to avoid. She knew she should start the day, but remained stuck, like the old plaster slowly removed across the street.