Gemotions

“Well, this is just great,” I muttered, kicking a stray pebble across the cracked pavement. My neighbor's renovation project was turning my entire world upside down. My once-peaceful garden now faced a constant onslaught of noise and dust.

I’d tried to be polite, to offer a helping hand, but the wife had simply smiled condescendingly, her perfectly manicured nails glinting in the sun. I felt a lump form in my throat.

I walked back inside, the hammering echoing in my ears, and slammed the door. I knew I should say something, but the thought of facing her, of revealing my own shortcomings, was unbearable. I poured myself a glass of wine, alone, and sat in the shadows.