Gemotions

The sound of the power saw sliced through the quiet afternoon. He watched from his kitchen window, the sawdust swirling in the air. He hadn't wanted this; hadn't wanted to cause a problem. He considered the conversation he'd had with the neighbor, who had proposed the fence as a means of reducing neighborhood dog-related disturbances.

He rubbed his eyes. The thought of confronting his neighbor again was daunting. He sighed, the air escaping his lungs in a rush.

He thought about the dog who loved to play with the kids next door. He felt ill.