Gemotions

The clanging of hammers echoed through the afternoon. It was rhythmic, inescapable. Each nail hammered, each board placed felt like a personal affront. He felt a throbbing headache, a dull ache behind his eyes.

He imagined the fence, towering, blocking his view, separating him from the world. A sudden impulse made him stand up.

He’d call her, but what would he say? His tongue felt thick and useless. He’d just sound ridiculous. He sat back down.

He watched the workers. He watched them finish.