Gemotions

He chewed the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit that had become almost constant. The renovations next door had begun a week ago. This morning, a particularly loud crash had sent him leaping out of his chair. Now, he sat at his desk, staring out the window.

He felt pent up, as if he could burst. He wanted to shout, to smash something. He resisted the urge. He rose, paced the room, the floorboards creaking under his weight. His mind raced, seeking something to ground him, a solid point, but finding only static. He had to be productive. He wasn't.