Gemotions

The notice, stapled to the community bulletin board, announced a neighborhood meeting regarding a fence installation. My stomach tightened, a familiar knot of anxiety forming. Usually, I'd be ready to argue, to debate the merits and demerits of any change.

But today, the thought of confrontation felt impossibly heavy. I found a bench, my legs leaden, and sat down. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby oak tree.

I attended the meeting, listening to the discussion with a detached air. When it was my turn, I barely spoke. I murmured agreement, a soft sound, and then sat back down, content to be silent. It was easier this way.