Gemotions

I blinked, momentarily forgetting what I was doing. My neighbor, Mr. Harrison, his brow furrowed with what I could only describe as an air of trepidation, was asking to grow vegetables on my land.

My chest felt tight, constricted. I tried to focus on his words, but they seemed to fade into a jumble. The air in the room felt suddenly thin, as if I was struggling to breathe.

My gaze drifted to the window, the sun glinting off the meticulously arranged lawn. I felt a chill, despite the warm spring day.