Gemotions

The phone call had been short, curt. "We’re going ahead with the fence." The words, so casually delivered, had left me reeling. I threw my phone onto the table, the plastic bouncing against the wood.

My vision blurred. A wave of heat swept over me. The very idea of the structure, separating us, infuriated me. I felt the urge to destroy, to dismantle, to fight.

I paced the kitchen, unable to sit still. Every thought, every memory, was now tainted by this imposed division. My knuckles were white, my hands clenched. I needed to do something.