Gemotions

The rhythmic thump, thump, thump from downstairs had been going on for hours. Mark knew his neighbor would be at his door any minute now, and he anticipated the visit with a quiet inevitability. He continued to watch the rain streak down the window.

The knock came, predictable and insistent. He opened the door. The neighbor, a middle-aged woman with a floral dressing gown, began her usual speech. Mark looked at the pattern on the carpet.

"Mmhmm," he murmured as she spoke. He scratched his chin. The woman paused, expecting a response, or perhaps an apology. He closed the door. He turned back to the painting he was working on.