Gemotions

The hammering was a physical assault on Oliver’s patience. He slammed his fist on the table, trying to make the noise stop. It didn't. He hated his neighbor and their project. The house felt like it was shrinking, the walls pushing in.

He found himself wandering the apartment, restless and agitated. He couldn't focus on anything. He wanted to run, to escape the noise, the dust, the constant disruption. The phone rang, and he let it go to voicemail, unable to bring himself to speak.

He stared out the window, watching the workers go about their business. They seemed oblivious to the havoc they were wreaking on his life. He hated their carefree laughter. He felt a profound sense of helplessness.