Gemotions

He kept adjusting his collar, a nervous habit he’d developed recently. The persistent humming of the power tools amplified the internal thrumming inside him. Each swing of the hammer sent a jolt of anxiety.

Frank stared, unblinking, at the construction workers. He had tried to be friendly when they first arrived, but his attempts had felt clumsy and forced. He had never been good at small talk.

He backed away, bumping into a garbage can, scattering its contents across the lawn. He wanted to disappear.