Gemotions

He felt the knot in his stomach tighten as Mr. Henderson, all smiles and outstretched hands, outlined his request. "A little space for sunflowers, maybe some zucchini. It's just a sliver, I promise!" The sun beat down, turning the meticulously maintained grass a blinding green. He dug his heels into the earth, anchoring himself, as if the neighbor’s words were a current threatening to pull him away. "No," he said, his voice clipped, each syllable a solid, immovable object. He turned his back, the invitation hanging in the air, unanswered, unwanted.