Gemotions

The air thickened with a sudden, suffocating heat. He wasn’t a man given to displays of emotion. But this… this was too much.

His fists were clenched so tightly, his knuckles were white. He was a man of routines. He loved his garden. This fence was going to ruin everything.

He thought about confronting his neighbor, Mr. Abernathy, but the image of that bland, affable face filled him with a rage he couldn’t articulate.

Instead, he went into his garage and grabbed his tools. He needed to *do* something. He had to take control.

He slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet afternoon.