Gemotions

The shovel felt heavy in his hands, but he swung it with brutal precision. *Fence Installation Approved.* The words echoed in his skull. They’d gotten the permit. They’d won.

Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes. He attacked the earth with renewed fury, each thrust a silent scream. The soil offered little resistance, the ground dry and unforgiving.

He could practically taste the bitterness in the air. The goddamn fence would loom over him, a constant reminder of their victory. He refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break.