Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the yard. The hammering had finally stopped, replaced by the hushed whispers of the construction workers. Ben, perched on his porch swing, watched them pack up their tools. He’d barely said a word to anyone all day, he was so preoccupied.

He hadn’t spoken to Mr. Gable in weeks, before the project had even begun. They'd always exchanged pleasantries. Now, even those small interactions seemed impossible to imagine. He chewed his lip. Why? Why all the sudden secrecy?

He heard a floorboard creak inside his own house and he jumped. He felt as if someone was watching him. He hated this feeling.