Gemotions

He felt a sudden tightening in his chest. "A little space for herbs, nothing much," Mr. Henderson had said, his voice cheerful. But the small patch in his mind had already ballooned, blossoming into a sprawling, weed-choked jungle. David’s eyes darted around the meticulously kept yard, his gaze sweeping over the perfectly placed rose bushes.

He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal. “I… I’m not sure,” he managed, his voice barely a whisper. His palms were slick with sweat. He envisioned the inevitable problems. The arguing, the watering, the potential for blight.

He excused himself abruptly, muttering something about a phone call. His legs felt shaky as he hurried back inside, away from the encroaching chaos. He grabbed a glass of water, gulping it down as if he hadn't drunk in days. The rhythm of his heart pounded in his ears.