Gemotions

Heavily dust-covered, Marcus watched the workers next door from his kitchen window. Each swing of the sledgehammer sent a jolt through his body. He retreated further into the shadows, his heart rate quickening. He found himself avoiding eye contact with the workmen when he walked to the postbox.

His wife, Sarah, had told him to relax, that the noise was temporary. He hated this feeling, this unease that gnawed at him. The thought of confronting the foreman – of asking them to be quieter – made his stomach churn.

He tried to distract himself, switching on the television, but every time there was a hammering sound or a shout he would flinch. He picked at his lunch, unable to eat, the food suddenly tasteless.