Gemotions

“Oh, *now* they decide to build a fence," Emily muttered, her voice laced with acid. She watched the construction workers from her kitchen window. The rhythmic thud of the hammer against the wood felt like a personal affront.

She imagined the faces of the new neighbors, the Smiths, who had only moved in a few months ago, happily sequestered behind their new enclosure. Her lips twisted into a grimace.

She poured herself a glass of wine, then instantly regretted it. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, and she found herself tapping her foot with agitation.