Gemotions

The proposition hit me like a rogue wave. Mr. Davies, the recluse, wanted to till up a section of my backyard? I felt a coldness spread through my chest, chasing away the warmth of the summer sun. The world was suddenly unfamiliar.

I frowned, my hand instinctively clenching into a fist. I'd always viewed my property as a sanctuary, a place of peace and order. Now, this… this encroachment. I found myself staring at the perfectly manicured lawn, unsure if it was real.

"Well," I said, my voice brittle and unsure, "I'll need to consider this." The words sounded hollow, inadequate. I felt adrift, bobbing on the surface of something vast and unknown.