Gemotions

The vibrant chatter of the fence builders was like needles jabbed directly into Robert's skull. He hunched deeper into his chair, trying to blot out the noise. He'd put in earplugs, but the vibration still seeped through, a low hum of annoyance.

He glanced at his watch. Still early. He'd wanted a quiet morning to read. Instead, he was trapped in this cacophony of hammering and sawing.

He tossed the book aside, the action impulsive and uncontrolled. The world felt too much, the noise too invasive. He just wanted them to stop.