Gemotions

The contractor stood on the property line, measuring with a tape that seemed unnecessarily long. Margaret watched from her kitchen window, the morning sun glinting off the metal. He kept shaking his head, murmuring to himself. It was a good thing the guy wasn't looking at her. She would have ripped him apart if he was.

The neighbor, Mr. Henderson, strolled out, his hands clasped behind his back like he was inspecting a trophy. He was all smiles, nodding at the contractor. Margaret imagined those smiles were fake. She gripped her mug, the ceramic warming her palms.

"Just a little something for privacy," she heard him say, his voice carrying clearly on the still air. Privacy? From *her*? The cheek of it! She slammed the mug down on the counter, the clatter echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen.