Gemotions

He slammed his fist on the table, scattering the half-finished jigsaw puzzle. The noise was like a physical assault, a constant barrage against his already frayed nerves. It had started the moment he sat down to work. He glanced at the clock, then back at his computer screen, the words blurring before his eyes.

He paced the room, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He could feel his pulse racing, a frantic drumbeat matching the music. A wave of frustration washed over him, hot and overwhelming.

He grabbed his coat and keys, the thought of actually confronting the neighbor filling him with an overwhelming sense of reluctance. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words wouldn't come. He just wanted it to stop.