Gemotions

"A fence?" Thomas echoed, his voice a shaky whisper. He squinted at the blueprints Mrs. Petrov had provided. The intricate details of the proposed structure made him feel claustrophobic.

His appetite vanished. He picked at his dinner, the food tasting like ash. The images of imposing wooden panels, blocking the sky, consumed him. He began to avoid going outside.

He struggled to sleep. Nightmares of being confined and shut away haunted him. He started staying in the bedroom. He had to keep the curtains closed. He wanted to block the outside. The world was now a dangerous place.

He snapped at his wife. Every sound, every change, every perceived slight felt like an attack. He was a tightly wound spring, ready to release.