Gemotions

David crumpled the invitation into a tight ball, his knuckles white. He stood in his meticulously organized workshop, surrounded by the tools of his trade. He smoothed out the paper, and then crumbled it again, over and over. He took a long, slow breath, trying to calm the sudden agitation that had seized him.

He felt as though something was coming undone, unraveling. He began to pace, his feet scuffing against the polished concrete floor. He kept running his hands through his hair. The memory of the past was like a fog, swirling and shifting, making it hard to focus.

He had a sudden need to work. He picked up a hammer, and began to pound at a piece of wood, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent space. He hammered hard, not thinking, just reacting. The wood splintered. He threw the hammer down.