Gemotions

The building was going condo. A simple sentence, printed on cheap paper, now had him feeling a jangle of nerves. He stood in his kitchen, staring at the coffee maker, unsure whether to make a fresh pot. It felt like an impossible task. He fiddled with the knob on the stove, staring at the empty burner.

He threw on his jacket and went out into the hall. He found himself walking toward the communal laundry room. The humming machines and the smell of detergent usually soothed him. Today they just made him more aware of his own disquiet. He tossed a load of clothes in the machine, then returned to his apartment, the anticipation of the spin cycle making him feel more on edge.

He paced while they washed, unable to relax. He checked his watch every few minutes. When the cycle ended, he grabbed his laundry and left the building, heading toward the nearest park.