Gemotions

The silence that preceded the next onslaught of construction felt worse than the noise itself. David sat by his desk, unable to concentrate on his work. The air vibrated with a low hum of tension. He glanced repeatedly at his watch.

He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. Each screech of the saw, each thud of a dropped object, sent a jolt of anxiety through him. He imagined the dust, the debris, the eventual disruption of his routines.

He pulled at his collar, feeling constricted. He longed for the days of tranquil routine. The peace he’d curated was crumbling.