Gemotions

The first sign had been a slight twitch in his left eye. Then the restless pacing. Now, John was finding it hard to eat. He couldn't settle. The sounds of renovation across the street, the screech of metal, the rumble of machinery, had him wound tighter than a spring.

He kept glancing at the windows, expecting to see something, anything. He began hoarding cans of food in the pantry. He found himself avoiding his neighbours, ashamed of his obvious distress. He felt an intense need to know what was going on over there, but was terrified to actually look.

He decided that if it didn't stop soon, he would leave.