Gemotions

The invitation to the barbecue felt like lead in her hand. Sarah reread the cheerful script: "Come celebrate our new fence!" Her stomach churned. It wasn't just the fence. It was *how* they'd gotten it.

She’d been so eager to agree. Mr. Henderson’s dog, a fluffy Samoyed named Cloud, kept digging under the shared hedge. “It’s just a small border, a friendly gesture!” Mr. Henderson had pleaded. Now, the “friendly gesture” was a solid, imposing cedar barrier.

Sarah felt her cheeks burn as she imagined facing Mrs. Henderson. The woman, usually so warm and welcoming, had barely spoken to her since the fence went up. Even Cloud gave her a wide berth now, his happy barks replaced with a wary silence whenever Sarah approached.