Gemotions

He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, a nervous habit that intensified as Ms. Peterson, their new neighbor, continued to describe her plans. She was envisioning herbs, vegetables, maybe even a small berry bush, her eyes sparkling with excitement. He, on the other hand, was calculating the lost time.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. The afternoon was already slipping away. He’d promised to help his son with a school project.

“That sounds… wonderful,” he said, his voice strained. “So, where were you thinking?” He couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in a slow-motion film.