Gemotions

The letter lay on the kitchen counter, its glossy paper mocking her with its professional font. A new fence. Next week. Across the whole back garden. Her back garden.

She wandered out onto her patio, hands clasped behind her. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, painting the lawn in stripes of gold and grey. She had always enjoyed the open view of the valley from her backyard. Now, a wall.

She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she hadn't realized she employed so often. The air felt suddenly thick, heavy. Her neighbor, Mrs. Gable, was already marking out the property line with orange spray paint. She didn't wave or offer a greeting.