Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a smell that normally brought warmth. But today, the sweetness seemed cloying. The doorbell chimed, a sound that sliced through the peaceful afternoon.

The world seemed to sharpen. She could feel the pounding of her pulse against her temples. It was Mr. Davis, with his intense gaze, and she felt a sudden urge to flee.

"Good afternoon, Mary," he began, his voice a little too loud. "I'm thinking of starting a small garden. Your yard has the best soil, and the sun is perfect."

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. The room started to spin. The thought of his presence, the idea of him in her space, felt suffocating.