Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread evaporated in the face of the ear-splitting din. George stood at his front door, his hand still on the oven handle, his eyes fixed on the spectacle across the street. His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, was having her entire house repainted. A massive scaffolding embraced the entire dwelling.

He blinked, unable to process the scale of the operation. He had just finished making his perfect rye loaf. Now, he wondered if he’d ever be able to enjoy a quiet meal in his own home again. His appetite suddenly deserted him. He closed the oven and retreated inside, a sense of foreboding washing over him.