Gemotions

He could feel the tremor in his hands, a physical manifestation of the tightening in his chest. The neighbor’s voice, a pleasant drone, floated in the air, proposing a shared plot. He focused on the intricate pattern of the paving stones beneath his feet, the familiar weight grounding him. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and he brushed it away with a jerky movement. "I'm not interested," he said, his voice flat, devoid of inflection. He turned and walked away, the implied invitation a lingering ghost.