Gemotions

The thought of it made his stomach churn. A fence. Right next to his meticulously crafted koi pond. He imagined the clatter of the construction, the incessant hammering, the dust that would settle on his prized water lilies.

He leaned against his own fence, the one he'd diligently maintained for years. His lip curled slightly. That new fence would be a blight on the landscape. He pictured it, unfinished, leaning, probably painted the wrong color. He wanted to go over there right now and tell them how awful it was going to be.

He sighed and walked back inside, the image of the fence seared into his vision. He would wait. He would see how it turned out. Then, he would *deal* with it.