Gemotions

"More coffee?" Mrs. Gable's voice, usually a comforting rumble, now held an edge. She held the pot aloft, her gaze fixed on him. Liam winced. The coffee was strong, the air thick with the scent of freshly brewed beans, like it always was. He nodded, feeling a flush creep up his neck. Mr. Peterson, the new owner, was very hands-on with the renovation, and seemed to always be around.

He watched Mrs. Gable refill his cup, her movements efficient and practiced. He'd never minded the way she was, but now he felt trapped. He wanted to go to the park, maybe read a book in the sun. But he knew she would be disappointed. He could have started his own garden, but the idea seemed ludicrous, a task too huge to be tackled alone.

He just wished that the hammering would stop, and that he could feel the sun on his face again, without the weight of expectations.