Gemotions

The dust swirled in the air, mimicking the cloud in her head. The rhythmic pounding next door was a drumbeat to the rhythm of her tears. She kept biting her lip, trying to contain the tremors that ran through her. She felt like a deflated balloon.

He’d always loved the sound of construction, she thought. He’d have been over there, leaning on the fence, offering unsolicited advice. Now, the sound was an assault, a constant reminder of his absence.

She picked at the corner of the envelope on the kitchen counter, the one with his forwarding address. She thought of calling, but decided against it. Her throat constricted. The din from next door seemed to be reaching inside her soul.