Gemotions

The notice fluttered from her grasp, landing in a muddy puddle. Her hand flew to her chest, a frantic fluttering matching the paper's descent. "A fence," she choked out, the word catching in her throat like a bone. The neatly printed words blurred before her eyes. It was a conspiracy, a silent attack on her carefully curated privacy, the sun-drenched haven she’d fought so hard for.

A tremor ran through her, starting at the balls of her feet and rapidly escalating. She clutched at the air, needing something, anything, to anchor herself. Her breath hitched, becoming shallow, rapid. The robin perched on the fence post across the yard seemed to be mocking her, its chirps piercing the sudden, buzzing silence in her ears.

She had to stop them. They couldn't do this. Not to her. Not now. Her fingers, icy and trembling, clawed at the air as she pivoted, stumbling back towards her house. Her mind raced, a trapped bird flailing in a cage.