Gemotions

The sun was warm on his face, but a chill ran through David. He’d been enjoying a quiet afternoon, reading in his hammock, the picture of contentment. Then Mrs. Rodriguez, who usually only waved, had approached, a hopeful expression on her face.

Her words, something about raised beds and organic farming, became a muddled blur. He watched her gestures, the way she pointed at the far corner of his property. He felt a detached sense of unreality. It was as if he was observing a play, and he was supposed to know his lines, but they had been forgotten. He found himself nodding automatically, even as a strange buzzing began in his ears.