Gemotions

"Are you absolutely certain about this fence, Barbara?" Sarah asked, fiddling with the drawstring of her hoodie. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken anxieties. She tapped a fingernail on the rim of her coffee cup, the sound loud in the sudden silence.

Barbara just smiled, a bland, practiced expression. "Of course, dear. Privacy. Security. It's the sensible thing to do."

Sarah felt a surge of heat flood her cheeks. The word "sensible" felt like a direct insult. She wanted to scream something, anything, to disrupt the easy facade. She stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair. "I... I have to go."

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she walked, a tight, frantic rhythm against the placid hum of the neighborhood. She didn't want the fence. It felt suffocating, closing in on a space she desperately needed to breathe in.