Gemotions

"You really think it's necessary, Frank?" Mary asked, her voice flat. She stared at the surveyor's stakes, marking out the fence line between their property and the Millers'. Frank just shrugged, his eyes avoiding hers. The sunlight seemed to drain the color from the world.

She felt a hollowness where anticipation had bloomed. The thought of their shared garden, now to be bisected, was unbearable. She had visions of how it would be, all her favorite plants, now on the other side.

The silence between them was a tangible thing, heavy and cold, like the autumn wind. She turned and walked back inside, the click of the door echoing her sense of isolation.