Gemotions

He shoved at the recalcitrant drawer one more time, his face reddening. The antique dresser, a family heirloom, was proving a significant obstacle. He had inherited it from his Aunt Carol, and he just wanted to take out the stuff inside. He'd been battling it for an hour, wrestling with the warped wood and stubborn runners. It just wouldn't budge.

He tugged harder, his muscles straining. Then, with a loud scraping sound, the back of the drawer came loose. He grunted and, peering into the newly revealed cavity behind the drawer, felt his shoulders slump.

A small, bricked-up space. Another project. He let out a harsh sigh, a sound full of exasperation.