Gemotions

He’d said it so casually, during their awkward wave across the property line. "Gonna put up a fence, you know, for the dog." The words felt like a physical blow now, replaying in Marcus's mind. He had barely managed a nod, his throat constricted. His own dog, Buster, wouldn't understand.

The afternoon sun beat down, and sweat trickled down his temples. He found himself avoiding the backyard, the thought of watching the fence being built a new source of dread. He sat indoors, staring at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams, his hands twitching with an urge to do *something*, anything to stop the encroaching wood. He opened the blinds, then slammed them shut.