Gemotions

The smell of sawdust and fresh paint was overwhelming. He walked around the perimeter of his property, his hands clenched into fists. His own house suddenly felt fragile, vulnerable. He felt exposed.

He'd spent the entire morning watching. He’d convinced himself it was just a hobby. He kept telling himself that. But the truth was, he was obsessed. Every movement, every hammer blow, every glance from his neighbor felt carefully calculated.

He saw him, the neighbor, emerging from the newly framed shed. The man gave a slight wave. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run, to disappear. He retreated indoors, slamming the door behind him.