Gemotions

The rhythmic thudding started again, the sound vibrating through the floorboards. Amelia clutched her mug of tea, the ceramic cold against her trembling fingers. She pressed herself against the wall, as if seeking some solace in its solidness. The hammering grew louder, closer, and a bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She hadn't been able to sleep well since the demolition began next door.

“It's just construction,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the closed curtains, a thin line of daylight peeking through. She knew, rationally, that it was just building work, but her chest felt tight, constricted. A tremor ran through her, leaving her suddenly cold. She desperately wanted to call someone, anyone.

She finally decided to go outside.