Gemotions

The pounding started again, the insistent thudding through the floorboards. Clara flinched, the abrupt noise making her jaw clench. She was already perched on the edge of the sofa, a book unread in her lap. The words swam before her eyes. It was always like this, a constant state of being on edge.

Her hands began to tremble. Taking a shaky breath, she closed the book, the leather cold against her palm. She focused on the pattern of the wallpaper, trying to find a calming spot. But the rhythmic assault below continued.

She imagined Mr. Henderson, his face a mask of disapproval. He was probably already at his front door, ready to deliver his familiar complaint. The thought of the confrontation made her stomach churn. The world felt like it was pressing in.