Gemotions

Agnes stared at the official-looking notice taped to her front door. It detailed plans for a six-foot-tall privacy fence along the property line she shared with the Millers. Her brow furrowed, a frown etching lines around her mouth she hadn't known existed. This was a surprise.

She went outside, squinting at the sun. Mr. Miller was out, puttering in his flowerbeds. "Morning, Agnes!" he called cheerfully.

"Morning, Harold," she replied, her voice sounding odd even to her own ears. "I, uh… I saw the notice." She gestured vaguely at her door.

He straightened, a trowel clutched in his hand. “Yep! Thought it was about time, wasn't it? Give us a bit of peace and quiet, you know?" His words hit her like a chilly gust of wind.

Agnes could only nod, a strange tightening in her chest. She had never considered a fence necessary.