Gemotions

It was the fifth day of it. The incessant hammering, the grinding, the noise that burrowed into his brain. He felt a constant pressure building behind his eyes. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep.

He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, the world outside. His shoulders were slumped, his posture defeated. He felt a hollow ache in his chest, a deep sense of vulnerability.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the sounds, but they were already inside him, a relentless rhythm, a symphony of destruction. He wanted it to stop, he just wanted it to stop.