Gemotions

The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled. The children’s endless laughter, usually a pleasant backdrop, now grated like fingernails on a chalkboard. He glared at the wall, wishing he could just make the noise cease. This was not the time.

He tapped a pen against the desk, the rhythmic click echoing in the otherwise silent room. His jaw tightened. He rubbed his temples, hoping to ward off the building headache. He just wanted to get through one, single, uninterrupted hour.

He stood up, shoving his chair back with a frustrated screech, and walked towards the door. The only thing he could think about was silencing the noise permanently.