Gemotions

He stood on his porch, watching the men measure the property line. His breath hitched in his chest as the tape stretched across his yard, a red and white snake coiling around the grass. His hands were clasped so tightly together that his knuckles were white. The air felt thin, hard to breathe. He wanted to scream.

The new fence meant less space, less light. It meant the neighbors would be closer, their houses towering over his little garden. A cold dread seeped into him.

He cleared his throat. "Do you think… will it be high enough to block the sun?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper. The construction worker shrugged.