Gemotions

The thumping started before dawn, waking him from a fitful sleep. Thomas shot upright in bed, heart racing. They were at it again. This “spruce-up” had been going on for months and he was at his breaking point.

He glared at the ceiling, imagining the source of the noise. The constant hammering, the yelling, the incessant activity. He slammed his fist on the mattress. His carefully planned day had already been ruined.

He considered fleeing, escaping the noise, finding refuge. But where could he go? He felt trapped, a prisoner in his own home. He wanted just a moment of peace, of silence.