Gemotions

The constant vibrations of the jackhammer made his teeth ache. He'd started taking extra-long showers, hoping the rushing water would drown out the noise, but it never did. The new patio was being laid, and the concrete mixer churned constantly. It was a pleasant feature, he had to admit, a great upgrade.

He avoided contact with his neighbor, Mr. Harrison, at all costs. He dreaded the mail, the bills, anything that might require him to leave his house. The guilt was a heavy blanket, suffocating him. He'd broken a promise, and he knew he could never make amends.

He wished he could undo the past. He wished he could turn back time. His chest constricted with a painful pressure. The relentless sun seemed to mock him, baking the ground and solidifying his shame.