Gemotions

He had been enjoying the quiet, the solitude of his backyard. Now, Mrs. Gable was at his back door, her eyes bright with plans for a shared garden. He found himself unconsciously crossing his arms, a barrier against the intrusion.

The words tumbled from her, a cascade of floral metaphors and promises of fresh tomatoes. He focused on the intricate pattern of the paving stones beneath his feet, anything to avoid eye contact. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips.

He mumbled something about needing to consult his wife. He just needed to be alone again. He would lock the back gate, and never look out there again.