Gemotions

"Just a little space," the words echoed in Leo's head, spoken by the overly friendly Mrs. Peterson. Leo watched her, her eyes twinkling as she gestured toward the section of his yard closest to her house. The thought of losing any of his meticulously trimmed grass made him feel a cold prickle, like ice spreading through his veins. He imagined the weeds, the potential mess, the constant upkeep he would suddenly be responsible for. The space around his chest felt constricted, making it hard to take a deep breath. He tried to smile, but the edges of his mouth felt stiff and unnatural.