Gemotions

The clatter from the construction site across the street felt like a constant hammer blow against her patience. The never ending noise was a relentless assault. Her movements were slow, deliberate, each action a chore. She had forgotten the last time she felt rested.

A persistent ringing echoed from the front door. Sighing, she shuffled to answer it. It was Mr. Davis, his face a mask of annoyance. "The hammering," he grumbled, gesturing towards the offending site. "It's unbearable."

She mumbled an apology, her voice flat. She went back inside, the silence feeling heavy, the atmosphere thick. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, the only sound the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.