Gemotions

The phone rang, the shrill sound slicing through the silence. It was Mrs. Miller, wanting to talk about the unused space in his yard. He felt a sudden, inexplicable anger. He considered letting the call go to voicemail but answered it anyway.

Her voice, overly sweet, described her vision. A vibrant garden, a place to teach children about nature. He listened, his jaw clenched, the phone pressed hard against his ear. His knuckles were white from clenching the phone. The imagery felt like a personal affront.

“I’ll think about it,” he snapped, the words clipped and devoid of warmth. He hung up immediately, the abrupt action making him feel slightly dizzy. He felt the urge to pace, to do something, anything, to dispel the feeling that was taking over.