Gemotions

He paced the length of his living room, a nervous energy thrumming through him. The hammering had started early this morning. Now, the new fence stood tall, a stark divide between his property and the pristine green expanse next door.

“They probably think I’m a joke,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He hadn’t mowed the lawn in weeks. He'd intended to, of course. But other things, more important things, always seemed to take precedence.

He glanced out the window, at the sharp lines of the new fence. It made his overgrown garden look even more chaotic, a tangled mess of weeds and forgotten dreams. He knew he should go out there, tend to his plot. But the feeling of inadequacy was a lead weight.

He sat down heavily on the couch, the silence of his own home suddenly deafening.