Gemotions

Rain clouds hung heavy, mirroring the mood that had settled over Michael. He’d spent the morning staring at the grey canvas of the sky. The house felt too quiet, the silence amplifying the weight in his chest. Apathy had become his constant companion.

A tap on the door broke the stillness. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, beaming as always, her hands clasped in front of her. "Michael, dear, how are you? I’m thinking of doing some planting, and I thought I might ask if you would be alright with me planting a small garden near your fence. Just a little corner, really. Tomatoes, maybe some squash."

He felt a familiar ache behind his eyes. He considered the request. The sun, even on this overcast day, felt like a burden. He nodded slowly, his voice barely a whisper. “Sure. Go ahead.” She seemed so happy, and to argue seemed like a tiresome chore.