Gemotions

“Another day, another headache,” the gruff voice mumbled. The man stood at his kitchen sink, the noise outside was a persistent drone. He'd poured another cup of coffee. He was perpetually exhausted. He was drowning in unpaid bills and unfulfilled promises.

The scent of construction filled his lungs. The smell, along with the noise, reminded him of his own inability to fix anything. He’d tried to repair the leak in his roof for months. He couldn't seem to do anything right.

He sighed, running a hand over his tired face. Each bang and slam next door was a hammer blow against his already fragile spirit. His own house was a mess. His life was a bigger mess, and he just didn't know how to clean it up.