Gemotions

The drilling from the Peterson's house grated on Leo's ears, and he found himself clenching his fists. He was supposed to be working, but his thoughts were a jumble, his mind adrift. The constant noise was an unwelcome intrusion.

He’d always enjoyed carpentry, the smell of wood, the satisfaction of creating something tangible. Now, the sounds coming from next door only made him feel more inadequate. He felt paralyzed by it.

He thought of calling his friend, but the thought of talking, of explaining, seemed too burdensome. He just wanted to be left alone in the quiet. But even the quiet felt heavy, loaded with a sense of… something he couldn't name.