Gemotions

He yanked open the refrigerator, rummaged through the sparse contents, and slammed the door shut. Nothing appealed. Nothing soothed. He wandered through the house, turning lights on and off, unable to settle. A loud knocking echoed through the walls. It was Ms. Davies, arms crossed, her expression stern. "That awful racket," she said, gesturing vaguely. "I can't even hear myself think. It's too much." He felt a flush creep up his neck. "I apologize," he muttered, acutely aware of the throbbing sensation behind his eyes.