Gemotions

The air crackled with a low hum of barely contained frustration. He tapped his foot impatiently. The old man, Mr. Abernathy, had wandered out of his house, a bemused look on his face. "Oh dear," he said, gesturing at the wreckage. "Looks like you have a problem."

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shove the man into the branches, to make him understand the magnitude of the inconvenience. The new fence he had just installed was completely destroyed. His perfectly manicured lawn was ruined.

He swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile. "Yes, Mr. Abernathy," he said, his voice strained. "It appears I do." He’d have to start this whole project again and deal with the fallout.