Gemotions

"A fence, darling? Really?" Evelyn's voice was sharp, a high-pitched whine. Her husband, George, had just relayed the news from the homeowner's association email. She felt a knot tighten in her chest. She loved the openness of their backyard, the way the sunlight streamed through.

She envisioned the view from her kitchen window, irrevocably altered. A dark, imposing structure, blocking the light, the air. Her fingers fidgeted, picking at the embroidered edge of the tablecloth. She could feel the pulse in her temple. George, oblivious, was already reaching for the remote.