Gemotions

The phone rang, and it was Mr. Bell, from across the street. Liam’s fingers tightened on the phone. Mr. Bell was a genuinely nice man, always friendly. But the idea of a shared garden, a shared… anything… was anathema to Liam.

His heart began to race. He could feel sweat prickling his forehead. The carefully constructed order of his life, his rigid routines, seemed to be crumbling. His carefully curated space, his sanctuary, felt under siege.

He stammered a few polite words, agreeing to a meeting. As he hung up, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He knew he'd have to find a way to refuse, but the thought of it sent a fresh wave of dread through him.