Gemotions

He’d almost finished setting up the new sprinkler system when the knock came. It was old Mr. Henderson, hat in hand, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "David, my boy! Wonderful yard you have! I was hoping..." The words hung in the air, weighted with the unspoken request. A small vegetable patch. The corner closest to his side fence.

David wiped his brow, the afternoon sun suddenly feeling more intense. His fingers tightened around the wrench. He’d invested so much, the new sod, the imported soil, the meticulous planning. Sharing it? The idea tasted like ash.

"That area is… earmarked," David said, his voice clipped. He pictured the perfect green expanse, the envy of the neighborhood. The thought of dividing it, of relinquishing control, caused a tremor in his chest.

"Just a little space, for some zucchini…" Mr. Henderson’s words were almost swallowed by the breeze. David nodded slowly, his face carefully neutral.

“I’ll have to check my schedules,” he mumbled, already plotting to extend his fence. "Perhaps another time." The sprinkler system hissed to life, a small victory.