Gemotions

The incessant noise was a low, insistent hum, a constant backdrop to John's day. He found himself avoiding eye contact with Mr. Harrison, his neighbor, when he ran into him at the grocery store. He knew what he’d done was wrong. He'd made a joke about the new roof, and how it was "too flashy" for the neighborhood. He hadn’t meant to cause such offense, but the words had escaped him, sharp and uncaring.

He sat on his porch swing, watching the construction crew work. Each swing of the hammer seemed to drive a nail into his own conscience. The air tasted stale, and he felt a knot forming in his throat.

He should have kept his opinions to himself.