Gemotions

He watched the dust swirling, a reddish cloud carried on the wind, as the demolition began. The old porch was already gone, just a gaping hole where it used to be. Mark took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up into the still morning air. He wasn't particularly interested.

His own coffee was getting cold. He took another sip, then flicked the cigarette butt into the ashtray. The rumble of the machinery increased as the workers removed the old siding. The sun was hot on his face, but he didn’t bother to move.

He glanced towards the mess next door. The house was slowly disappearing. He turned and went back inside, the banging and drilling echoing, a backdrop to the mundane. He didn't really think about it.