Gemotions

The shadows in the garden seemed to deepen as the fence went up. I sat on the porch swing, watching the men work. Their laughter, the clatter of tools – it all grated on my nerves. It was like they were mocking me.

The fence, it was an invasion, a physical manifestation of everything I'd been trying to avoid. It wasn't about the property line. It was about something deeper, something colder. I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air.

My hands began to tremble. I got up, wanting to do something, anything, but the only motion I was capable of was pacing from one side of the porch to the other.