Gemotions

The jackhammer was relentless. It vibrated through the floorboards of her own home, shaking her teacup slightly. Eleanor, usually a morning person, felt her mood darken with each successive burst of noise. She was normally delighted by early mornings, but today felt a heaviness that settled in her stomach.

Across the street, the new family, the Smiths, were tearing down their front porch. She had met them briefly, friendly, but clearly out of their depth.

Eleanor, remembering the ordeal of her own recent roof replacement, felt a fresh wave of empathy. That job had been exhausting. She imagined the Smiths, overwhelmed and probably out of their depth.

She decided to bake a batch of muffins. Perhaps, she thought, a little something sweet might lift their spirits.