Gemotions

The letter sat on her desk, the official notice outlining the proposed fence installation. She picked it up, her hand shaking slightly, and studied the formal language, the cold, detached presentation of the information. Her gut tightened with a kind of internal protest.

I used to spend hours sitting on that fence, talking to my best friend, gossiping, making plans. The fence provided a space, a kind of in-between space, where all the secrets, all the dreams were shared.

She closed her eyes, and her mind filled with images of those carefree days, of the endless possibilities of youth. She imagined the new, imposing barrier that would soon stand in its place, blocking the light, blocking the past. A single tear escaped, running over the wrinkles on her cheek.