Gemotions

A sigh, soft as a feather, escaped Mark’s lips as he sat in his sunroom. Sunlight, filtered through the leaves, dappled the polished wooden floor. He traced the rim of his teacup, feeling the warmth seep into his fingertips. The quiet was almost palpable, thick and still.

Suddenly, a cacophony erupted. A drilling, a hammering, a general din of destruction. His neighbor, finally beginning the project. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, a minor disturbance in his otherwise gentle mood.

He picked up the newspaper, the rustle of the pages a comforting sound. His mind drifted to the crossword puzzle, a familiar challenge. The noise faded into the background, like distant traffic. He focused on the clues, on the satisfying click of the correct words filling the spaces.