Gemotions

"Another one," he muttered, watching the workers haul a heavy beam across the newly constructed patio. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke failing to soothe the hollow ache in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray.

He hadn't been to the gym in days, hadn't returned a single phone call. The world outside seemed to be moving at an accelerated pace, leaving him stranded in a stagnant pool of his own making. Each new nail hammered into place felt like a punch to the gut.