Gemotions

He woke with a start, the pounding echoing in his ears. He sat up, heart hammering against his ribs. The nightmares had been particularly vivid last night, replaying the images he tried so hard to forget. The constant racket was a catalyst, dredging up unwanted memories.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. The flashbacks, the vivid, terrifying images, threatened to consume him. The renovation next door was a constant assault, a relentless reminder of the world’s brutality.

He got out of bed, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He needed to get out, to escape the noise, to escape himself. But where could he go? The past clung to him, a shadow he couldn’t outrun. The hammers were a relentless, rhythmic accusation.