Gemotions

"A fence?" Clara sighed, the word barely a breath. The proposal had arrived in the mail, a crisp official document that threatened to crumble in her grasp. The edges of the paper blurred as she held it too long.

The tea, which she’d brewed hours ago, sat cold on the counter. The steam had long since vanished. Just like her resolve, apparently.

The idea of the physical barrier felt… heavy. It felt like another obstacle in a life already littered with them. She imagined the shadows of the fence, stretching long and dark across her already subdued lawn.