Gemotions

The sonic assault from next door felt relentless, a physical presence, each beat driving deeper into his skull. He was trying to relax in his quiet living room, and the noise felt like an unwelcome guest. He knew the source: the house on the corner, now occupied by a family with a teenage son who played in a band.

He recalled his own teenage years, the thrill of creating music, and the frustrations of having it all contained.

He took a deep breath. He went to the front door. The noise grew louder with each step he took.

He knocked on the door. A girl, who seemed to be the teenager's sister, answered.

"Hi," he said, trying for a calm tone. "I'm your neighbor. Is it possible to turn the music down a little bit? I am trying to read a book."

The girl's eyes darted between him and the house. "Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry." She called out to her brother. The music began to fade.