Gemotions

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he watched the guy next door, a Mr. Henderson, approach the property line. Henderson's smile, usually so wide and friendly, felt like a deliberate provocation. I took another drag from the cigarette.

He was carrying a clipboard and a handful of brochures. "Morning, neighbor! Lovely day, right? Listen, I was hoping…" his voice was deliberately slow.

I took a long drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke directly toward his shoes.

"I'm thinking of putting in a small garden this year," he continued, unfazed, "And your side gets a lot more sun. Would you be willing to allow me to put some vegetables over on the side?"

I simply turned and went back inside, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.