Gemotions

"A fence?" The words escaped Mark's lips in a strangled whisper. He re-read the email from his neighbor, Sarah, three times, each time feeling a fresh wave of irritation wash over him.

He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action startling his cat, Mr. Bigglesworth, who jumped from his perch on the sofa. Mark ran a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous. They'd always gotten along.

He felt a tightness in his throat, and the need to pace the living room. He pictured Sarah, smirking, already dreaming of blocking his view of her meticulously weeded garden. He would *not* let her get away with this.