Gemotions

He was a tight coil, wound up too tightly. Mark felt a prickly heat crawl across his skin, a burning sensation that wouldn’t fade. The rhythmic thudding from next door, usually a background annoyance, had become a personal assault. His teeth ground together. He stalked from room to room, unable to find a place to rest.

The source of the irritation? A group of teenagers. They had been at the house for hours.

He glanced out the window, at their joyful exuberance. He wanted to scream. Instead, he slammed the window shut, the glass rattling in its frame. He would go over there and say something. He had to. He unlocked the door.