Gemotions

The knock on her door startled Sarah. She jumped, nearly spilling her tea. Her hands trembled as she cautiously opened it. There stood Mr. Rodriguez, a large smile on his face, holding a pot of vibrant basil.

He began to explain his idea, his voice enthusiastic, about growing vegetables. Sarah felt a warmth spread through her face. The request was reasonable enough. Yet, a cold dread began to form in her stomach.

She found herself tracing patterns on the doorframe with her finger, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. The thought of altered routines, of potential social interaction, of *change*– it was all too much.

“Of course, Mr. Rodriguez,” she heard herself say, the words a strange echo of her own thoughts. She winced at the sound of her own voice. It sounded far away.