Gemotions

Liam slammed the window shut with a force that made the glass rattle. He paced the length of his living room, his hands clenched into fists. His jaw was tight, his face flushed. The incessant hammering from next door was driving him up the wall.

He glanced at the meticulously organized bookshelf, each volume in its place, each spine perfectly aligned. It was a small comfort, but even that felt diminished now. The thought of losing his hard-earned serenity was unbearable. He picked up a book, a first edition he treasured, and almost ripped the cover in frustration.

His breathing came in short, shallow gasps. He needed quiet, he needed to think. He needed to escape the deafening noise. The constant intrusion felt like a personal affront, a violation of his space. He spun around, grabbed his car keys and fled the house.