Gemotions

The repetitive thud of the hammer felt like a drumbeat inside Clara’s chest. The neighbor's fence went up, and with it, something new in her. Her fingers itched. She was too restless to read, too distracted to work.

She usually found solace in her garden, but today, she was drawn outside. The sunlight felt intense.

"Morning," she said, her voice a little breathless. The smell of freshly cut wood hung in the air. "That's quite a project," she added, her eyes darting between the workers and their creation. She wanted to touch the wood, to test its smoothness.