Gemotions

The sound of the saw sliced through the afternoon. Mark couldn't escape it. He stared, almost against his will, out the kitchen window at his neighbor's new fence, a stark line of freshly stained wood. His own, dilapidated fence seemed to sag even further.

He slammed the window shut. It didn’t block out the sound. He hated the way the new fence defined the property line with such finality, the way it made his small yard feel even smaller. His heart started to race with a feeling of something unpleasant, he couldn't put a name to it.

He picked at his lunch, his appetite completely gone. Everything about the scene agitated him.