Gemotions

The incessant hammering next door had started again. A throbbing ache began behind David's eyes, a pressure that wouldn't relent. He slammed the newspaper down on the table, the rustling and crackling noises of the paper providing some small satisfaction. This construction was all he could hear. It was consuming everything.

He hadn't been to sleep. The dust was visible in the air, even with his windows closed. He pictured the contractor, a young man, full of youthful energy and enthusiasm. David envied that. He'd lost that spark years ago, along with his wife.

"They're not even doing it right," he muttered, watching as a worker struggled with a beam. "No respect for the old ways." He imagined his own house, solid and reliable, a monument to the life that was now an empty shell.