Gemotions

The dog's incessant barking had finally ceased, replaced by an uneasy quiet that offered no solace. The headache behind Martin’s eyes was a dull, throbbing ache, making the world seem overly bright and loud.

He was just about to settle into his armchair when a knock sounded at the door. He ignored it, hoping it would go away. But it persisted.

He yanked the door open, his patience worn thin. It was Kevin, holding a ridiculously oversized chainsaw.

“Hey, Martin! Thinking about taking down that pine, finally? It’s blocking my view.” He grinned, oblivious.

Martin glared. The pine was the only thing standing between him and Kevin's garish garden gnomes. He wanted to scream.