Gemotions

The rhythmic thud of the post driver was like a drumbeat in Elias’s ears. He could hear it over his own racing pulse. He’d been “working from home,” a vague phrase that now mainly meant staring at the construction progress.

He pulled up the blinds a bit, and a fresh wave of heat washed over him. The sun seemed brighter, the air smelled sweeter. He’d barely eaten breakfast, too distracted. He thought of her.

He suddenly had this urge to bake her some cookies. Maybe, he mused, he could offer them as a thank-you, a token of appreciation for the noise. No, maybe that was too much. But a thank you note, he thought, could do the trick. A thank you note was definitely acceptable.