Gemotions

The afternoon light streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. He’d cleaned the same spot on the counter four times. His leg bounced. His thoughts raced, a whirlwind of unfinished tasks and unspoken anxieties. A knock.

It was Emily, a woman known for her vibrant flower gardens. She held a small, weathered seed packet. "Hey, Daniel," she began, a friendly smile on her face. "Would you be alright if I planted a few zinnias along the fence? That spot gets so much sunlight." He felt a tightening in his chest.

“I… I don’t know,” he said, his voice flat. He had a sudden, urgent need to walk, to run, to leave the house, the neighborhood, the whole damn situation behind. He forced a smile. "I'll think about it." He stepped back, closing the door and bolting it.