Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. The email from his boss, the leaky faucet, the endless to-do list – it all pressed down on him, a physical weight. The knock at the door, polite but insistent, made him jump.

It was Mr. Henderson, his neighbor. A small, unassuming man with dirt perpetually under his fingernails. “Good morning, David. Lovely weather, isn’t it?” he began cheerfully. “I was hoping, perhaps, I could… well, could I use a bit of your land for a small garden bed? Just for tomatoes, really.”

David felt the tightness in his chest intensify. His vision blurred for a moment. He hadn't slept properly in days. He couldn’t handle one more thing. “I… I’ll have to think about it,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly. He gripped the door frame. “Maybe some other time.”