Gemotions

"Could you please keep it down?" Mark snapped, his voice barely a whisper, as he stepped out onto his porch. The worker barely glanced up from his work. He just shrugged and hammered on. Mark’s palms were slick with sweat. He felt a tremor in his hands.

He retreated inside, his jaw clenching. He hadn't slept well in weeks, and the added clamor was making it worse. He felt a constant pressure behind his eyes, a dull ache that seemed to be expanding. The air in his house felt thick, suffocating. He wanted to scream.

He poured himself a glass of water, his hand shaking so badly he almost dropped the glass. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Every loud noise felt like a personal assault.