Gemotions

The first thing Amelia heard was the rhythmic pounding, a relentless drumbeat that sliced through the morning quiet. She blinked, pulling herself up in bed. It couldn't be. Not *now*. She stumbled to the window, her hand flying to her mouth. Her neighbor, Mr. Henderson, was ripping off his roof. A cloud of dust billowed around him and two burly men. Her heart felt like it was doing somersaults in her chest.

"Well, I'll be," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The sheer audacity of it all was… astonishing. Amelia ran downstairs, her bare feet slapping against the cold wood floor. She needed coffee. And maybe a stiff drink. Or both.