Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut wood, usually pleasant, now felt like a toxic perfume. The fence, a symbol of division, a solid wall between him and his neighbor, became a constant visual weight. He found it difficult to focus, his thoughts constantly looping back to the physical barrier.

He started avoiding eye contact, even when forced into a brief hello. His appetite vanished, replaced by a dull ache in his stomach. He’d sit on his porch, chain-smoking, his gaze fixed on the slow, inevitable construction. He felt trapped, his spirit stifled, the air itself heavy and difficult to breathe.