Gemotions

A coldness settled in David's chest as he watched the fence posts being hammered into the earth. It wasn't just the fact that it was happening *now*, a week before his annual garden party. It was the way Mrs. Gable barely acknowledged him when he emerged from his shed to see what the commotion was.

He’d always been friendly with her. Always offered to help with her groceries. Now, she was all tight-lipped smiles and quick glances. He felt a sting, a sudden constriction in his throat.

The wooden panels went up, obscuring the view of her prize-winning rose bushes, the ones she always boasted about. He felt his cheeks flush, heat prickling his skin. He muttered a greeting, the words catching in his throat, and retreated back into his own yard, feeling strangely diminished.