Gemotions

The sun beat down, turning the newly planted saplings to crisps. The fence, a stark white line, bisected the landscape. He stood on his patio, arms crossed, regarding the intrusive structure.

He could feel a slow burn of irritation in his chest, a feeling he often associated with a lack of consideration from others. The whole thing, the entire project, was a flagrant violation of the unspoken agreements of the neighborhood.

He sighed, the sound escaping him as a barely audible puff. It appeared, he thought, that he would be forced to take matters into his own hands.