Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the yard. John had just finished watering his prize-winning roses when his neighbor approached, a hopeful look on her face. "A small garden... just a few herbs..." she’d begun. He instantly felt a chill. The thought of her digging up his roses, of ruining his meticulously planned landscape, made his stomach lurch.

He stared at his hands, still damp from the water. He pictured his garden, now. It'd become a battleground. He felt a headache coming on, a dull ache behind his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "I’ll need to consider it," he said, his voice clipped. She beamed. He didn't.