Gemotions

The silence of the early morning felt oppressive. Michael swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the dryness that had seized his throat. His gaze locked onto the empty space, and a strange tingling feeling spread across his scalp. His hands were shaking; he shoved them into his pockets, trying to hide the tremor.

He glanced at the neighbor's house, then back at his own. Had he done something to offend someone? Was this some sort of bizarre prank? He wanted to shout, to scream, but the words wouldn't come. He felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap.