Gemotions

He paced in the living room, his phone glued to his ear. The renovation budget was already exceeded. He was running out of time and patience. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. The house itself had begun to feel like a trap.

He grudgingly opened the attic door. The musty smell of forgotten things hit him like a physical blow. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through.

He found old furniture, clothes, and boxes filled with random junk. He felt a sharp pang of irritation, his jaw clenched. He was losing control. It was maddening.