Gemotions

The silence of the evening was broken only by the chirping of crickets. He preferred it that way. He stood on the porch, watching the moon rise, a cold, indifferent eye in the sky. Then, a light flickered in Mrs. Davies' window. She was approaching.

Her voice, usually a comforting drawl, was now laced with nervous energy. “Mr. Harrison, dear, I just… well, I was thinking… the land between our houses… a bit of a waste, isn't it? A garden, maybe?”

He closed his eyes. The suggestion felt like a violation of his solitude. He opened his eyes, and with a weary sigh, he simply nodded, then retreated back inside, leaving her standing in the shadows. He locked the door, as though he could lock away the world too.