Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Amelia's kitchen as she hummed along to the radio. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. This morning felt particularly right. She poured herself a generous cup, the warmth seeping into her hands, and then, a loud crash and the whir of a saw erupted from next door. She smiled, a small, private curve of her lips. The Smiths were finally starting their kitchen remodel. Good for them.

The thud of a dropped two-by-four didn't even faze her. She added cream and sugar, took a slow sip, and returned to her breakfast preparations, her movements smooth and unhurried. The bacon sizzled contentedly in the pan.