Gemotions

The phone rang, shattering the quiet. A name she didn't know flashed on the screen. He let it ring. And then, it started again.

He finally picked it up. A woman’s voice, clipped and unfamiliar, but oddly familiar at the same time. “Is this Mr. Evans? We’re calling from the gardening club. We’re in your neighborhood, and wanted to see if you would be open to a shared garden space."

He gripped the phone tighter, knuckles white. His gaze drifted toward the window overlooking his yard. The sun felt too bright, the sky too vast.

“It’s just a small portion," she was saying. "Something to bring the community together.” He said nothing, the silence stretching on. The thought of strangers, of *anyone* in his space, brought a coldness to his limbs.