Gemotions

He had been so *pleased* with himself. That was what really galled him. Arthur watched from his kitchen window as Mr. Davies, already sporting a sweat-soaked t-shirt, gave the thumbs up to a crew member. His new patio, Arthur thought with a clench of his jaw, would be bigger than his living room.

His hands were trembling as he poured his coffee, spilling it over the counter. He imagined going over there, just walking over and kicking over the construction cones. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes.

He tried to ignore the noise. He tried to think about the novel he was writing. He stared at the blank page, but the staccato bursts of the nail gun kept pulling him from his thoughts. He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the silence he now craved.