Gemotions

The scent of freshly cut wood wafted over the air, a scent that normally would have soothed him, but today it was a torment. Thomas found himself tapping his foot with an uncontrollable rhythm, his gaze flitting from the hammering to the sky.

He kept reliving the conversation he’d had with Mark. Mark was going to install the fence and wanted to know about the plants growing on the property line. Thomas had insisted that Mark leave everything as it was, but Mark was unconcerned.

Thomas’s hands were shaking so badly that he spilled his coffee. He knew he should go back inside, but he remained rooted to the spot, feeling the vibrations of the hammering in his bones.