Gemotions

The letter was a venomous, typed attack. “Your inconsiderate behavior...” it began, detailing the alleged disturbance: a late-night phone call. He threw the letter across the room. It landed in a heap next to the overflowing bin.

He pictured his neighbor, Mr. Harrison, a man who seemed to thrive on negativity, hunched over his typewriter, meticulously crafting his disapproval. He grabbed a glass of water, his hand unsteady. The water splashed over the rim, soaking his shirt. He didn't even notice.

He felt the muscles in his back clench. He wanted to shout, to go next door and demand a retraction.