Gemotions

"Just a little privacy," Mrs. Gable had announced when she'd first mentioned the fence, her voice a little too loud, her smile a little too tight. Now, the fence was going up, foot by foot, a solid barrier between Elara's house and the rest of the world.

Elara felt the familiar prickle of heat behind her ears as she watched the workers from her kitchen window. She'd been meaning to tidy up the garden, but somehow, the motivation had vanished. Now, the dead leaves and overgrown bushes seemed to mock her, a glaring contrast to Mrs. Gable's pristine flowerbeds.

She tried to busy herself with chores, but every task felt monumental. She avoided making eye contact with the construction crew, her hands fumbling with the dish soap. It felt like everyone could see the state of her house, the mismatched furniture, the chipped paint. She was certain they were judging her.