Gemotions

A chill snaked up Elias’s spine as the elderly Mrs. Gable knocked sharply on his door. He dreaded these encounters. He knew what she was going to say. Her voice, thin and reedy, always held the same accusation.

He opened the door a crack, bracing himself. His shoulders were slumped, his posture yielding. Mrs. Gable, a small, birdlike woman, stood on his doorstep, her lips pursed in disapproval.

“Young man, the noise, it’s unbearable,” she said, her tone sharp. He felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach, a tightening that made it difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words wouldn't come.