Gemotions

The sunlight glinted off the shovel Mrs. Chen held, a tool he had to admire. She had the look of a person who knew what they were doing. He did not. Her invitation to plant a small orchard, while well-intentioned, felt like a deliberate provocation. He felt the blood rush to his face.

The very idea of her planting anything on his side of the property, was irritating. He had no skills in that department, and his lawn looked as if it was in the middle of a desert.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he responded.

"I don't know," he said. "Perhaps." Then he turned away, retreating to the safety of his living room. He felt something twisting in his gut.