Gemotions

The notice arrived in a crisp white envelope, tucked between the usual bills. A proposed fence. Right there, practically on his property line. His hands trembled as he held it, the paper crinkling audibly.

He paced the length of his living room, checking the windows repeatedly. Each gust of wind felt like a threat, the rustling leaves whispering secrets he didn't want to hear. The thought of something solid, a barrier, being erected so close filled him with a gnawing unease.

He needed to call them, to protest. He picked up the phone, his fingers slick with perspiration, but hesitated. The numbers swam before his eyes. He replaced the receiver and sank into his armchair, feeling a cold dread creep through his bones. The house suddenly felt too large, the shadows lengthening ominously in the late afternoon.