Gemotions

The notice arrived in the mail, crisp and white against the brown envelope. Elias stared at it, the words blurring a little in his tired eyes. A fence. Their neighbour, Mrs. Gable, wanted to put up a fence. It seemed like more paperwork, another thing to deal with. He crumpled the paper in his fist, then immediately smoothed it out, the creases mirroring the lines etched onto his face. He’d barely the energy to water the plants, let alone argue.

He trudged outside, the sun already too bright. Mrs. Gable was in her garden, a tiny, spry figure amidst a riot of roses. "Afternoon, Elias!" she chirped. He mumbled a greeting, the words thick in his mouth, the usual pleasantries feeling like an insurmountable mountain.

"Lovely weather for it, isn't it?" she continued, her voice buoyant. He swallowed, the dryness in his throat a familiar sensation. "Indeed," he managed, the word a husk. He just wanted to go inside, sink into the worn armchair and maybe, just maybe, close his eyes for a while.