Gemotions

The complaint came through the thin walls, a muffled thud followed by a distinct yell. Mark froze, his controller clattering to the floor. The game’s jubilant fanfare abruptly died. His stomach twisted. He knew it was him. Again.

He muted the game and quickly switched off the TV. He felt a wave of heat wash over him. He hated that he was *that* neighbor. He sat on his couch, fingers drumming a restless rhythm on his knees.

He considered going to apologize but couldn’t. He didn’t want to see their faces. He just sat still, listening to the quiet, and hoping he could sink into the couch.