Gemotions

Arthur felt his scalp prickle. The offer came out of the blue, as unexpected as a robin nesting in his hair. Mrs. Petrov, his reserved neighbor, had always seemed to exist in a world apart. Now, she wanted to plant… what? Tomatoes? He felt like he was wading through a dense fog.

He adjusted his glasses, a nervous tic. He'd lived in this house for forty years, and this was unprecedented. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to check the locks on all the doors and windows. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass, usually a comfort, now felt unsettling.

“I… I don’t quite follow,” he stammered, his words stumbling over each other. He needed time to process this. He felt as if the world had suddenly tilted on its axis.