Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the apartment building seemed to buzz in his ears, a high-pitched whine that amplified his inner turmoil. David pressed his back against the cool wall, trying to find some relief. His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, had knocked on his door again. It was about the music.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He couldn’t afford another complaint. It was the third time this month. The thought of the building manager’s stern face brought a fresh wave of discomfort.

His stomach clenched, and he felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. He needed to get out, to breathe. Grabbing his keys, he quickly went out the door, intent on getting away.