Gemotions

He’d been anticipating this, of course. The moment the first truck rumbled onto his neighbor's property, a prickling sensation ran down Leo's spine. He was suddenly aware of every creak and groan of his own house. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, the air thick with potential.

Leo found himself pacing his living room, the rhythmic thump of a bass drum from the construction crew a constant, grating presence. He kept checking his watch, though he had nowhere to be. Every instinct screamed at him to *do* something, to anticipate, to manage the impending chaos. He picked up the remote, then set it back down. He grabbed a book, then cast it aside. He couldn’t settle.

"Right," he said aloud, though to whom he didn't know. He decided a walk was necessary, a way to survey the landscape.