Gemotions

"More coffee, dear?" Martha asked, her voice laced with honey. She poured herself a second cup, the rich aroma filling the air. This new project next door had completely ruined their weekend, but at least she and her husband, Harold, had no such thing to worry about.

Harold grunted, engrossed in the Sunday paper. The noise of the saw slicing through wood was incessant. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the disruption, but Martha was positively radiant.

She was so glad they had invested in a new kitchen last year, while the neighbors were still on their outdated one. She idly touched the smooth, polished surface of her countertop. It was a good feeling, this quiet sense of superiority.