Gemotions

The hammering started before seven. Agnes pressed her face against the frosty glass of the kitchen window, peering out at the scene. Mr. Henderson, with his perpetually cheerful grin, was supervising the installation of a towering privacy fence that ran the length of their shared property line. She'd have to look at this monstrosity every single day. A knot tightened in her chest.

He hadn't even *asked* her. Just assumed. Agnes gripped the ceramic mug in her hands, her knuckles white. She almost wanted to fling it at the fence. It looked so…imposing, so deliberately separate.

Later, she found herself avoiding him during their usual morning walk. He waved and called out a cheery greeting. She simply nodded curtly and marched on, her pace quickening. Her shoulders were stiff, and the silence between them felt heavier than the weight of the cedar posts being driven into the ground.