Gemotions

The suggestion, laced with innocent enthusiasm, hit me like a physical blow. Her words echoed in my head, a constant, irritating loop. "A little space for a few sunflowers, perhaps?" The blood drained from my face.

My meticulously planned garden, my sanctuary, my refuge from the world – was under attack. I could feel my pulse quicken, my hands clench into fists.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just shook my head, my eyes wide with a fear I couldn't articulate. I had to end the conversation, to escape the encroaching threat.