Gemotions

David slammed his coffee cup onto the table, the hot liquid sloshing over the rim. It was eight-thirty, and he’d already lost count of the number of times he'd been jolted by the noise. His nerves were frayed.

He glared at the wall separating his house from the chaos next door. He felt a potent surge of resentment towards his neighbor, a man who seemed to relish in his own self-importance.

He stood up abruptly, pulling on his jacket. He needed to get away, to clear his head. He’d go for a run, and maybe, just maybe, the rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement would drown out the infernal noise.