Gemotions

The house seemed to shrink around Kevin, the walls closing in, the air thick with unspoken words. The sudden ring of the doorbell was like a physical blow. It was Mr. Davies, his usual jovial expression replaced with a look of quiet consideration.

"Kevin," he said, his voice softer than usual, "I'm thinking of starting a small garden. Could I use a little bit of your yard?"

Kevin stared at Mr. Davies, the request feeling less like an imposition and more like a lifeline. He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He gestured to the dusty patch of grass. “Go for it,” he managed to croak out.