Gemotions

The new neighbor, a cheery woman named Sarah, had introduced herself with a plate of cookies and a promise of "a little noise for a while." Liam had politely smiled, accepting the baked goods. Now, the noise was constant, a never-ending assault on his frayed nerves.

His marriage had crumbled a year prior. He was still reeling, still picking up the pieces. The construction next door seemed to mirror his own internal state, a chaotic mess of exposed wires and broken promises. He was always on edge, bracing for the next loud bang, the next shattering of his carefully constructed quiet.

He began to avoid his own backyard, the only place that had offered him solace. He felt exposed, watched, judged. The hammering, the sawing, the constant flurry of activity, it was a constant, unwelcome reminder of his solitude.