Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window as I watched the construction crew arrive next door. Their trucks, enormous and imposing, blocked my view of Mrs. Gable’s prize-winning roses. What was the *point* of all this? A fence? The lot lines were clear. There was nothing to separate.

A coldness settled in my stomach. I opened the window slightly, despite the downpour, and breathed deeply, trying to calm the sudden pressure in my chest.

“Good morning!” I heard a cheerful shout. It was Mr. Miller, the foreman. I managed a weak wave, the lump in my throat making speech impossible. I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck.

He was grinning. "Gonna be a beaut!" he called, as the first post was driven in.