Gemotions

The insistent hammering of the chainsaws next door felt like a personal assault. The loud noise was a direct attack on his already frayed nerves. He was in his study, trying, as always, to focus on his work. The task seemed impossible. He jumped at the slightest noise. The very wood in the fallen tree felt like an extension of his own pain, a constant reminder of his inner turmoil.

He walked over to the window, watching the workers saw the tree. His jaw tightened. He should be grateful. Grateful for the job, the money, the life. Why couldn't he feel it? He was trapped.

His fingers went to his temples, pressing hard as if trying to squeeze the thoughts from his brain. He needed to be in control.