Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut wood filled the air, a scent that only made the nausea worse. John stood on his porch, watching the last section of the fence go up. He hadn’t slept in days.

His neighbour, a woman named Carol, had been insistent. He tried to object, but the papers she’d waved around were intimidating. He hadn't the resources.

He felt like a stranger in his own home. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something.

He stumbled back inside, his hands trembling. The house felt too small, the walls closing in. He sat on the sofa, the silence amplifying the thudding in his chest.