Gemotions

"Just a small space," Mr. Henderson said, his voice hesitant. He looked down at the chipped paint on the gate. The request, to cultivate a small plot for herbs, seemed insignificant. Yet, it amplified her current state.

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if cold. The silence of her own home pressed against her, making the man's simple proposal sound like the first note of a discordant symphony. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm against the quiet.

"I… I'll think about it," she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper. The uncertainty of her own decision, the possibility of saying yes, felt like a threat. The knot inside her stomach tightened.