Gemotions

The hammering started before dawn, each blow a sharp crack in the pre-dawn stillness. A shudder ran through Amelia. She clutched the blanket tighter around her shoulders, listening to the rhythmic assault. Outside, the world was still dark, but her neighbor, Mr. Henderson, was already at work.

He'd mentioned the fence weeks ago, a casual comment about privacy. Amelia hadn't thought much of it then. Now, with the unrelenting noise, she felt a tightness in her chest, a difficulty drawing breath. She peeked through a crack in the curtains, her heart thudding against her ribs.

Mr. Henderson, silhouetted against the rising sun, moved with a relentless energy. She couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched, of being enclosed. The first wooden post was planted, a stark vertical line that seemed to cut across her yard. The world had just shrunk.