Gemotions

The silence that followed the crash was deafening. It was followed by the sound of Mr. Davies, shouting. The man was a nuisance. Always on the go, always loud. Now, this. His own carefully cultivated calm was shattered.

He went to the window, watching the chaos unfold next door. He could see Davies yelling into his phone. He did not care. The thought of offering help, of offering sympathy, turned his stomach.

He turned from the window, and let out a long breath. He felt the familiar thrumming in his temples, a pressure that was growing into a headache. The tree's fall had only made things worse.