Gemotions

The foreman, a burly man with a weathered face, kept shooting glances at David, an awkward, nervous smile playing on his lips. David found the scrutiny unsettling. He had tried to be nonchalant, to appear as if everything was normal, but he knew he was failing.

He’d asked if he could watch. It was a stupid request, and now he regretted it. Each clang of the metal, each shudder of the building, sent a fresh jolt through him. He found himself involuntarily flinching at every impact.

He kept his hands shoved in his pockets, his knuckles white against the denim. He remembered the smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of his siblings playing in the yard. It was all vanishing. He wanted to turn and flee, to disappear before the final blow.