Gemotions

The garden. It was his sanctuary, his quiet place. He'd always loved tending to his roses. Now, his son, Daniel, had his own patch, cultivating strange, exotic plants that seemed to watch him. He could almost feel their silent scrutiny.

He stood near the window. He watched the boy slowly stroll around the plants. He saw him pick a flower. He looked up at him. He felt his face flush. He slowly retreated from the window. He went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea, but he couldn't drink it. He kept staring out the window.

He felt a sudden compulsion to go outside, to check on the plants. He opened the door, but stopped at the edge of the porch, unable to move.