Gemotions

He saw the posts first, neatly aligned along the property line. His jaw clenched involuntarily. The posts were of dark, rough-hewn wood, ominous. He imagined the fence, a formidable physical barrier, cutting across the open vista.

He felt a tightness in his chest. His hands clenched and unclenched. He couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, of being boxed in. He went outside, unable to stop himself, but could only stand and stare at the posts.

He walked up and down his property line, a slow, methodical pacing. His mind raced. He had to stop this. He had to think of something, anything, to prevent the construction.