Gemotions

The email arrived, a bland notification about a proposed property improvement. A fence. From Mrs. Gable. He knew her, vaguely. She always seemed so… nice. Too nice.

He deleted the email, immediately regretting it. He should have saved it. He needed proof. He needed to document everything. He grabbed his phone and took a photo of the empty inbox.

He noticed the curtains were drawn at Mrs. Gable's house. He could not shake the feeling that he was being closely observed. He imagined cameras, hidden in the eaves, recording his every move. The fence, it would block his view, but it would also block *their* view.

He spent the rest of the day watching the street, meticulously noting every car that passed, every person who walked by. He needed to know who was involved.