Gemotions

The afternoon light was perfect, the lawn freshly mowed. I was on the porch, finally at peace, and then, the familiar form of Mr. Davis appeared, striding across the yard.

I set my book down, a heavy weight settling in my stomach.

"Afternoon, Jim!" His voice was unnaturally loud. He was carrying a bag of fertilizer.

"I was thinking of planting some sunflowers this year, and your property gets such great exposure. Would you mind if I just, you know, put in a few rows on the edge there?"

I glared at him. The thought of his cheerful face, his incessant chatter, the whole damn thing...

"No," I finally said, my voice clipped. "I have no interest." I turned and went back inside.