Gemotions

The evening was punctuated by the rhythmic drumming emanating from the garage. John was trying to watch a quiet film, but the noise was intrusive. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes.

There was a hesitant knock. It was Mr. Lewis, his face shadowed with worry. "The drums," he started apologetically. "They're, um, a bit loud."

John closed his eyes, and leaned against the door. "I'll try to be quieter," he said softly, the words escaping in a whisper. Mr. Lewis, relieved, mumbled a thanks and left. John moved back to his chair, but the movie seemed to have lost its appeal. He stared blankly at the screen, the drumming now seeming to amplify.