Gemotions

“Just a little corner, love,” the woman said, her voice laced with honey. The words felt like a venomous insect bite. He should have known the moment she’d complimented his rose bushes.

He felt a sudden rush of heat, his palms growing slick. He clutched the gardening gloves as though they were a lifeline. She wanted to plant tomatoes. He pictured red, juicy fruits, attracting all the local wildlife.

He made a weak excuse about needing the space for his “collection.” The collection was imaginary. He stammered and avoided eye contact. He wanted her off his property, and away from him.