Gemotions

He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, the action a delayed reaction to the cacophony of the morning. It was relentless. The rhythmic pounding next door felt like a deliberate taunt. Every morning it was the same.

The drive to work was a blur. He felt a profound sense of disconnection from everything around him. The traffic, the radio, even the familiar route to his office – all seemed distant, unimportant. He was operating on autopilot.

At the office, he sat at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. The words swam before his eyes. All he wanted was a moment of silence, a moment of peace, an escape from the relentless bombardment. It felt impossible.