Gemotions

The request, when it came, felt like a physical blow. Sarah's breath hitched as Mr. Evans, his face flushed with enthusiasm, laid out his plan. A community garden, a place to grow organic produce. He gestured towards the patch of grass adjacent to his property.

Sarah found herself backing away, her hands rising to her chest as if to ward off a threat. The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. She noticed her palms were clammy. It was *her* space. Her privacy.

"I... I don't know," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. The thought of strangers traipsing through her yard, of the soil being turned and touched, was a profound assault. Mr. Evans, oblivious, continued to explain his idea. She excused herself, quickly retreating to her bedroom, pulling the covers over her head, shutting out the world.