Gemotions

The heat was oppressive, but he still paced the length of his patio. He couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. The neighbor's casual mention of the willow had sent him into a spiral. He picked at a blister on his thumb.

He found himself staring at the phone, willing it to stop ringing. The relentless sun, the chirping of crickets, the drone of a distant lawnmower – all intensified his anxiety. He’d barely slept since the suggestion.

He grabbed a bottle of scotch and went into his garage. The smell of oil and gasoline only seemed to heighten his unease. He felt a deep, profound sense of helplessness.