Gemotions

From his living room window, David watched as the new neighbors hauled in a mountain of lumber. He hadn't expected the scale of the project. He’d pictured something small, a simple paint job, maybe some new landscaping. This was full-blown demolition.

He hadn’t even taken the trash out yet. He'd been lounging around in his oldest sweatsuit, nursing a coffee cup with a stained rim. He knew, instinctively, that the neighbors would soon realize what a slob he was.

He saw the woman point towards his slightly overgrown lawn, and he ducked behind the curtain. He knew he'd have to face them eventually, but he wasn’t ready. He vowed to get dressed and tidy up, but the hammering outside made him feel oddly paralyzed. The feeling was like a heavy weight pressing him into the sofa.