Gemotions

The house felt quiet, the silence almost tangible. I was sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window at my garden. A bird chirped from a nearby tree.

A polite rap on the back door. It was Mr. Chen, his face creased with concern.

“Good afternoon,” he began, his voice soft. “I… I was hoping…” He held a struggling pepper plant.

My gaze drifted to the sunny expanse of my yard. I felt no urge to resist, no instinct to protect my property.

“My peppers are stunted,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Could I maybe… use a small part of your land? Perhaps just a little corner?”

I felt a calm settle over me. “Certainly,” I replied, my voice echoing the stillness of the afternoon. “Use whatever you need.”