Gemotions

The small, handwritten note felt like a prize. Sarah held it up to the light, studying the smudged ink. Her entire project had come down to this moment. The meticulously planned disruption, the carefully calibrated frequencies, the targeted audio assault.

She began to dance in the confines of her small apartment. The music she'd composed was a weapon, she realised, but it was also a beautiful thing.

The door buzzer sounded. She skipped over to her equipment, turning up the volume on the speakers. It was time for the next act.