Gemotions

He stood in the doorway, the sunlight harsh against the screen door. The man’s polite request felt like a direct affront to everything he held dear. His knuckles were white as he gripped the doorframe.

“A garden?” he said, the words barely audible. His vision seemed to narrow. His teeth clicked together. His own sanctuary, invaded.

He could feel the blood rushing in his ears. The feeling was like a physical blow. He wanted to rip the world apart. He imagined his carefully planned space, ruined.

“I’ll… I’ll need some time,” he managed, the words choked and barely audible. He slammed the door, the sound echoing the turmoil inside him.