Gemotions

He had woken up to the taste of dust in his mouth and the memory of a dream he couldn't grasp. The drone of a passing car, the distant bark of a dog – everything felt overlaid with a layer of cotton. He just wanted to disappear.

Then the knocking. It was a relentless pounding, a demand. He opened the door to find Mrs. Ramirez, her face a thundercloud. "The dogs," she said, her voice rising. "They've been barking for hours. It's been unbearable."

He looked at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. He thought about the small, inconsequential task of quieting the dogs. The thought was paralyzing. He closed the door.