Gemotions

He found himself avoiding Mrs. Petrovich in the following days. She had asked to use a small plot in his backyard.

His usually easy stride faltered when he saw her working in her own garden. He crossed the street to avoid walking past her house. The thought of being in her gaze, or having her gaze his yard, filled him with a strange agitation.

He took to staring out his window, the sun room now feeling more like a prison. He considered selling, moving to somewhere distant. He found himself wishing he’d never even met her. The request, innocent as it was, had fractured the pleasant illusion of his quiet life.