Gemotions

The rhythmic thud of the hammer felt like a judgment. He sat on his couch, listening to it, a hollow feeling in his chest. When the contractor had asked if the noise was bothering him, he'd given a curt nod, a pointed look at his watch. Now, he couldn't shake the sensation that he'd failed him, and himself.

He’d imagined himself helping, getting involved. He enjoyed carpentry. But he’d been too focused on his own comfort, his own quiet life.

He decided that he would help. He grabbed his toolbox, feeling a flicker of hope. He looked up at the sky and then headed towards his neighbour's house.