Gemotions

The sound of the power saw sliced through the quiet afternoon, followed by a furious knock. He dropped the tool, the noise abruptly cutting short. He stared at the mess he'd made. He had to replace his fence, he told himself, to save money. His face burned with shame.

He opened the door and found Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, their faces a mask of displeasure. He didn't even wait for them to speak. "I'm so sorry," he blurted out. He felt a deep sense of inadequacy well up. He'd been trying to do something useful.

He listened to their complaints, each word a hammer blow to his already fragile confidence. He had failed. He felt his face contort. The fence, the noise, the whole thing felt like an act of rebellion. He promised to finish the job tomorrow.