Gemotions

The hammering started before dawn. Sunlight hadn't even nudged over the horizon when Mrs. Gable began pounding posts, the rhythmic thudding a percussive beat against the quiet of the morning. Across the yard, Leo felt a tingling in his fingers, a restless energy coursing through him. He tossed aside the covers, his pulse quickening.

He threw on a pair of jeans, the fabric rough against his skin. Coffee was out of the question; he needed to be *out*. He found himself pacing in the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath his bare feet.

Leo stepped outside, squinting against the still-dim light. Mrs. Gable was a whirlwind of activity, her movements sharp and efficient. "Morning, Leo!" she chirped, wiping sweat from her brow. Her eyes sparkled. "Just putting up a little privacy, you know?" He found his voice cracking as he replied, "Looks… great." He couldn’t look away.