Gemotions

The hammering had stopped, the rhythmic thudding gone. Mark stared at the wall, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. The incessant noise had been his own doing. He’d been installing shelves, determined to complete the task before sunset.

The knock on the door came almost immediately. He knew who it was, and dreaded the moment. He pulled the door open, forcing a smile. Mrs. Chen, her face as stern as a statue, stood there.

He apologized profusely, but his voice cracked, betraying the turmoil within. He promised to be quieter, his words tumbling over each other. He suddenly felt exhausted, as though all the air had been forced out of him.