Gemotions

He adjusted his sunglasses, the glare of the afternoon sun a minor inconvenience. The surveyor’s stake, a bright orange beacon, marked the boundary perfectly. This was his project, his vision. He’d poured over design magazines for weeks, sketching and revising until he was completely satisfied. His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, watched him from her porch, a slightly disgruntled expression on her face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Gable,” he said, his voice carrying easily across the space. “Lovely day, isn't it?” He gestured toward the stake. “Getting a fence installed. Should really improve the look of things, I think. More structure, you know?”

Mrs. Gable pursed her lips. “Well, I… I liked the view.”

He chuckled, a short, dismissive sound. "Privacy is paramount, wouldn't you agree? Besides, I've chosen a design that will compliment the neighborhood. I have the papers all in order. It'll be a cedar picket, very tasteful. It's really the only way to go."