Gemotions

"More coffee?" Sarah’s voice, normally bright, sounded strained as she offered her husband another cup. He just shook his head, gazing out at the activity next door. The air thrummed with the whine of a power sander, a sound that seemed to bore directly into his skull. He'd been sitting in the same armchair for hours, the newspaper spread open on his lap, unread.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a dull ache that echoed the slow, creeping dread that had become his constant companion. He pictured his own unfinished projects: the leaky faucet in the bathroom, the cracked tile in the kitchen. All lay abandoned, reminders of what he couldn’t seem to manage anymore. He closed his eyes, the drone of the sander intensifying in his mind.