Gemotions

The first nail driven into the post sounded like a gunshot to Michael. He felt a wave of…disappointment, disappointment mixed with a strange, sharp bite. He'd always thought of them as good neighbors.

He started keeping the blinds closed. The sunlight seemed to mock him, the bright rays reflecting off the pristine, new wood.

The next time he saw the man, he turned his head away, focusing intently on pulling weeds from his flowerbed. He feigned deafness when the man called out a greeting. The cheerful wave felt like an insult. The garden now became his fortress.