Gemotions

The hammering started before dawn, each blow a sharp, insistent punctuation mark against the pre-dawn quiet. Sarah pulled the covers tighter, but the sound wormed its way into her skull, making her teeth clench. This was her fault. She should have spoken up. Now, she was stuck watching the ugly, prefabricated fence rise between their yards, a barrier where sunshine and laughter used to roam freely. She’d kept quiet about the height, about the style, about everything, allowing Mrs. Gable to steamroll her with a breezy "It'll be lovely!" Now, staring out the window at the encroaching wood, a knot tightened in her chest.