Gemotions

The phone call was short, to the point. “Could I borrow a corner of your yard for a while?” asked Mrs. Miller. She needed to start a few seedlings.

The words hung in the air. The man felt a sudden chill, despite the warm spring day. His breathing became shallow, his pulse quickening. He pictured his backyard, usually his private domain, now potentially shared, and a wave of something akin to panic washed over him.

He offered an excuse, a vague mention of future plans. After the call, he paced his living room, his muscles tight. He felt a deep need to keep the space all to himself. The idea of her plants thriving near his own felt intrusive, even threatening.