Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Mark. The survey notice, taped to the oak tree in his front yard, felt like a deliberate intrusion. His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, planned to build a six-foot privacy fence. He wasn't even consulted.

He pulled the blinds shut, plunging the living room into shadow. The grey light seeped in around the edges, making the already gloomy atmosphere even darker. His jaw was clenched, his temples throbbed. He’d spent the morning staring at the notice, the words blurring before his eyes.

He kicked at a stray newspaper on the floor. It was all so inconsiderate, so dismissive. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear down that stupid notice and throw it at her door. Instead, he retreated into the silence of his home, feeling trapped.