Gemotions

The letter, stiff and official, had landed on my doormat like a poisoned dart. "Notice of Intent to Install a Fence." A wave of heat washed over me, the air in the small hallway becoming thick and oppressive. I crumpled the paper in my hands, the edges digging into my skin.

I reread the words, each one a fresh insult. "…for the purpose of…privacy." As if my life was some kind of public spectacle. As if I were a threat. My pulse hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of my home.

I ripped the paper into a hundred tiny pieces, scattering them across the floor. The idea that this person, this neighbor, could dictate my space like this made me want to rage. I wanted to smash something, anything. I wanted to build a wall, too, only one made of defiance.