Gemotions

He stared at the blank piece of paper, the sunlight streaming in through the window. He was supposed to be writing a letter, a letter of explanation, a letter of apology. He'd promised his neighbor, Mr. Chen, a spot for his prize-winning tomatoes. Now, he was backing out.

His hands shook as he picked up the pen, then put it down again. The words wouldn’t come. He imagined Mr. Chen’s disappointment. He could practically hear the quiet, polite inquiry, the gentle question about when the work would begin.

He pushed the paper away. The silence of the room was filled with the unspoken accusations, the unfulfilled promise, the space left empty. He had become a disappointment.