Gemotions

The surveyor's stakes, marking the proposed fence line, seemed to scream, mocking his freedom, his aesthetic. He’d always prided himself on his open, flowing garden, a space free from boundaries. Now, this intrusion.

He started hauling rocks from the back of the property, carefully placing them, creating a border, but not a barrier. He would not cooperate. He would not give him the satisfaction.

Later, he saw his neighbor, Mr. Harrison, staring at his work. The man's face, usually amiable, was a picture of consternation. Good.

He finished arranging his rocks, then turned, meeting his neighbor's gaze with a steady, unyielding stare.