Gemotions

The constant drone of the air conditioner felt like a physical weight on his shoulders. James felt a growing unease, an internal storm. The neighbors were arguing again. Their raised voices, the slamming doors, the raw emotion – it all bled into his space, infecting his calm.

He closed his eyes. He tried to think, to reason, to find a way to escape. He focused on his breathing. It wouldn't work. His hands twitched.

He started toward the door, then hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He turned back and sank into a chair, rubbing his forehead. He didn't want conflict. He just wanted it to stop.