Gemotions

The sound of clanging metal echoed in his ears. He'd offered a portion of his yard to Mr. Chen, so he could store some of his tools and equipment. He’d thought it would be a simple, neighborly gesture. Now, he watched the man struggle with a rusty truck, its various parts strewn across the once-pristine green.

His hands clenched into fists, the veins on his forearms popping. He had been so quick to say yes, not considering the ramifications. The equipment now seemed to swallow up the space, a testament to his poor judgment.

He felt a deep sense of irritation bubbling inside him, an acrid taste in his mouth. He should have protected his property, protected his peace. He should have said no.