Gemotions

"Honestly," the woman said, leaning over the fence, her voice laced with disapproval, "it's like living next to a construction site." David felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He forced a smile, the muscles in his face protesting.

He watched her walk away, her back stiff. He retreated into his shed, the scent of sawdust and old tools usually comforting, now acrid. He stared at the half-finished birdhouse, a project he had been working on for weeks, his fingers itching with a desire to dismantle it.

He sat on a stool and stared at the empty birdhouse. He wanted to scream.