Gemotions

The smell of freshly cut wood, once appealing, now made her stomach turn. She kept her windows closed, the scent of the cedar a constant reminder.

It was her idea, fueled by a petty argument. The neighbor, a young woman with a booming laugh, had parked her car partially on their shared driveway. “It’s a boundary issue!” she’d snapped, her voice sharp.

Now, the fence stood, a monument to their mutual hostility. She found herself watching her neighbor from the window, catching glimpses of her through the slatted wood. The laughter she used to enjoy now felt like a cruel mockery.