Gemotions

David felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he surveyed the half-finished kitchen. The contractor’s promises of a swift renovation had evaporated like morning mist. Now, a sea of exposed pipes and mismatched tiles greeted him daily. He tapped his foot impatiently. His wife, Sarah, kept asking when they could finally cook a meal, and he could barely meet her gaze.

He slammed the cabinet door shut, the noise echoing in the cavernous room. The pressure of balancing work and home improvements felt crushing. His shoulder blades ached.

While trying to find a spare screwdriver, he stumbled upon a loose brick in the pantry wall. He tugged at it, and a small opening appeared, revealing a dimly lit passage. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned in.