Gemotions

"So… about that fence…" Marco began, then trailed off, feeling the words stick in his throat. He’d cornered Mrs. Davies while she was retrieving her mail. It had seemed like a good time until he realized she was also holding a freshly baked pie.

His hands fidgeted, suddenly desperate to be doing *anything* else. The pie smelled heavenly, and now, he just felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run. His voice barely whispered over the hum of the passing traffic.

He cleared his throat, the sound unusually loud in the otherwise quiet street.

He felt the prickle of discomfort creeping up his neck.