Gemotions

He stared at the calendar, each day marked with a black X. The renovation had begun a fortnight ago, a fortnight of unrelenting clamor that had frayed his nerves to the breaking point. The incessant noise felt like a deliberate invasion, a violation of his personal space.

He found himself irritable and short-tempered with everyone. He snapped at the grocery store clerk, yelled at the television, and generally felt a low level of agitation that followed him everywhere. He kept the windows sealed, but the sounds still found him.

He was beginning to see faces, distorted and menacing, in the shadows cast by the setting sun. His mind was playing tricks on him, conjuring up scenarios of imagined threats. He needed to escape, to get away from the noise, the feeling of being watched, but the world seemed to shrink around him.