Gemotions

The notice taped to her door practically vibrated with smugness. *Fence Installation Proposed by the Wilkersons*. Her jaw clenched. She ripped it from the wood with unnecessary force, crumpling the paper in her fist until her knuckles were white.

A vein throbbed in her temple. She stormed across the yard, her boots kicking up dust. The Wilkersons were out, their pristine lawn a mocking display of suburban perfection.

She stood on the property line, imagining the fence: a towering, intrusive barrier. A hot, bristling feeling spread through her chest. It wasn’t about the fence. It was about them, always them, their relentless cheerfulness, their perfect lives.