Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside Thomas. He'd been avoiding Mr. Henderson for weeks, ever since the man mentioned his interest in a small plot of land near the fence line. Thomas’s own garden, neglected and overgrown, testified to his procrastination.

The offer felt like a burden. He should have said yes weeks ago, before he even had time to think about all the ways he would fail. Now, Mr. Henderson, drenched and apologetic, was asking again.

Thomas, his cheeks flushed, gestured vaguely towards the muddy yard. He mumbled something about "thinking it over" while avoiding Mr. Henderson's gaze. The request felt like a weight, pressing down on his chest with every passing moment.