Gemotions

The tiny hairs on David’s arms stood on end. The cacophony of drills and hammering, a symphony of destruction, had begun again. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath. His jaw was clenched so tightly he thought it might snap.

He felt the familiar knot forming in his stomach. The renovation next door, ongoing for weeks, was a persistent, irritating ache. He glanced at the clock, then at his unfinished crossword. He needed peace.

He considered calling the city, again. Instead, he slammed his fist lightly on the counter.