Gemotions

The shovel clattered against the cement. Mark, mid-weeding, paused, his back screaming in protest. A burly figure was standing at the edge of his property, surveying the land with a measuring tape. It was Dave, his neighbor, looking entirely too serious. Mark straightened up, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Everything alright, Dave?”

Dave turned, and his face was impassive. "Planning on a fence. Gotta get the measurements." Mark stared, the weed forgotten in his hand. A fence? Why a fence? He ran through their interactions in his head. He'd never given Dave any reason to want to create a barrier.

His fingers tightened around the handle. He felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in his chest.