Gemotions

The remote control lay nestled in Kevin's hand, his thumb working the power button, back and forth. The screen flickered, showing the same mindless game show he'd been watching for the past three hours. He barely registered the sharp rap on his front door.

It was Sarah, from next door, her arms overflowing with seed packets and a gardening glove dangling from her pocket. She explained her plans, her words a jumble of vegetable names and horticultural aspirations. She wanted to use the corner of his yard for a community garden.

Kevin stared at her, the idea of dirt under his nails, of bending and lifting and sweating, sending a shiver through him. The thought of getting involved in something, anything, was unsettling. "Yeah... uh... sure," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "I guess." The game show suddenly seemed very appealing.