Gemotions

He caught sight of the delivery truck, lumbering slowly down the street. It was loaded with panels of rough-hewn, imposing wood. The color drained from his face. The reality of the fence, the permanence of it, slammed into him. He felt a cold dread, a physical chill that ran through his bones.

He knew what the panels meant, and the knowledge was crushing. His carefully crafted life, the sanctuary he had built, was about to be destroyed. He couldn’t find his voice.

He felt a crushing sensation in his chest. His legs felt heavy, useless. He watched, powerless, as the truck turned into his neighbor's driveway, a slow-motion descent into a nightmare.