Gemotions

The house felt like a cave, the shadows clinging to the corners. John was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of his own thoughts, when the doorbell rang. He considered ignoring it, but the insistent buzz eventually wore him down.

It was Mr. Olsen, his neighbor, a smile stretched across his face. He held a seed packet, brimming with the promise of future growth. "I was thinking of a little vegetable garden," he explained. "Would you mind if I used a small section of your yard?"

John just stared at him, the request feeling impossible. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to offer anything. His head felt heavy, his body anchored to the couch. He simply nodded, the movement slow and deliberate.