Gemotions

The low thrum of the bass was a malevolent presence. Michael felt it in his chest, a deep, unsettling vibration. He could feel his pulse quicken in time with the beat.

He considered going next door, asking them to turn it down, but the thought made him shiver. He’d rehearsed the conversation in his head a dozen times, but always got bogged down.

His breath grew shallow. He felt trapped, a prisoner in his own home. He wanted the noise to cease, but the mere possibility of conflict made him profoundly uncomfortable.