Gemotions

The rhythmic thudding started shortly after sunrise. Liam gripped his coffee mug so tightly the porcelain threatened to shatter. His breath hitched in his chest as the sound intensified, vibrating through his teeth. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the kitchen window, watching the demolition crew dismantle the siding.

He hadn't been able to sleep well for a week. He chewed on his lower lip, a habit he'd adopted ever since he saw the "Permits Issued" sign tacked to the neighbor's fence. His palms were slick with sweat. He briefly considered calling in sick to work. The thought of facing the day, enduring the noise, felt impossibly hard.