Gemotions

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple. I sat on the porch swing, sipping lemonade. Then came the knock. It was the Millers, with their dog, Buster. They had been trying to grow tomatoes for years and had had no luck, so they thought about asking me. They pointed to a spot near the fence, a seemingly innocuous request. My breath caught in my throat. I felt a coldness creeping up my spine. Sharing was not a concept I understood well. A strange sensation, as if I had been suddenly cast adrift, spread through me. I swallowed hard, trying to appear calm, but my voice wavered as I replied, "I... I need to think this over."