Gemotions

The note was tucked under her windshield wiper, a flimsy white rectangle. "Excessive noise. Please be considerate." It was written in scratchy, hurried handwriting. Sarah felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine. Her music hadn't even been that loud, had it?

She glanced at the house across the street, a dark, imposing Victorian. Mrs. Gable, the owner, usually kept to herself. Now, a faint hammering echoed from the interior. Sarah imagined Mrs. Gable, a small, birdlike woman, wielding a hammer with unexpected force.

Her breath hitched. She slammed the car door harder than necessary, the sound snapping in the sudden quiet of the street. Inside, she turned the radio off entirely.