Gemotions

From the moment the hammering began, Michael’s stomach lurched. He scrambled out of bed, his pajamas twisted around his legs. He didn’t stop to get dressed, but instead, flew toward the window.

He saw the dumpster sitting in the neighbor’s driveway. He saw the workers, already bustling around with a flurry of activity. He let out a wordless groan.

He needed to get away. He grabbed his keys. “I'm leaving!” he yelled, though there was nobody to hear him. He was a fugitive from noise. He slammed the door behind him and ran, not knowing where he was going, just needing to escape.