Gemotions

He stared at the blank wall, the paint a sterile white that somehow amplified the silence. The move had been rushed, a desperate scramble to escape. He knew he shouldn't be so jumpy, but every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of alarm through him. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He ran a hand over the wall, looking for a way to break the monotony. He hated the monotony.

His knuckles rapped against the plaster, a hollow sound in the otherwise quiet house. He tapped harder, tracing a square shape. It was a faint outline, barely visible, but his intuition screamed at him. He slammed his fist into the wall. The plaster crumbled.