Gemotions

The afternoon stretched, a vast, empty plain of quiet and sun. He was sprawled on the sofa, a half-finished book resting on his chest. A knock at the door. Ugh.

He dragged himself upright, the simple act a feat of endurance. It was Mr. Miller, his usually cheerful face somewhat subdued.

“Good afternoon, uh…” He glanced around the room, not quite sure where he was.

“John,” Mr. Miller supplied. “Listen, I was hoping to…” He paused, shuffling his feet.

John let out a deep breath, fighting the urge to slump back onto the cushions.

“To build a small vegetable patch… in your yard,” Mr. Miller finished.

The very thought of having to give a reply was an exhausting one. “Sure,” he finally murmured. “Go ahead.”