Gemotions

He felt his temples begin to throb in time with the relentless drumming. Mark, trapped in the confines of his tiny home office, tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him, but the numbers swam before his eyes. He scrubbed a hand across his face.

The vibrations were now traveling through the floorboards and making his desk shake. He threw his pen down with a frustrated clatter. "This is impossible," he growled under his breath, leaning back in his chair.

He stood and stormed toward the offending noise. The thought of confronting his downstairs neighbor, a burly biker with a penchant for loud music, filled him with a sinking feeling. He took a deep, shuddering breath before knocking.