Gemotions

The hammering started early, a relentless percussion that burrowed into his skull. He was trapped in his own house, unable to escape the sound, the implications. He had always been told what to do, how to think. This change – a physical division – felt like a personal failure.

He watched the construction from his window, a silent observer. He felt an intense need to apologize, to seek forgiveness. He looked for approval in the faces of others. He imagined someone, anyone, taking charge.

He barely ate or showered. His clothes felt too big. He sat on his couch, his body sinking into the cushions, lost in his thoughts. He felt lost.