Gemotions

“Need anything?” The question, posed by his wife, felt like an accusation. He couldn't meet her eyes. He was avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"No," he muttered, avoiding looking at the window. He picked at a loose thread on the sofa. He felt as though the world was closing in, and the new fence seemed to be the most obvious symbol of it. He wanted to break something.

He knew she noticed the way he was withdrawn. The tight set of his jaw. The way he was clenching his fists. She didn’t press. She knew better. But her silence was almost as maddening as the hammering.

He stood up abruptly, making the sofa creak beneath him. "I'm going for a walk," he mumbled, and headed out the door without another word.