Gemotions

“They’re putting up a what?” Sarah blurted, her voice tight. The realtor had been so cheerful, so enthusiastic about the "friendly community." He’d said that about the neighbors, hadn't he? They were the reason they chose this place.

The realtor just smiled, oblivious. “A privacy fence. Very nice.” He gestured with a flourish, as if describing a prized possession.

She stared, unblinking, at the brochures spread on the table, suddenly seeing the vibrant images through a haze. She wanted to scream. Privacy. That was what he had. He had a family. He had someone. She pushed herself up from the table, her stomach turning. She mumbled that she needed to get some air.

She walked out into the warm, late afternoon, the heat amplifying the ache in her chest.