Gemotions

The air was heavy, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass. He watched, almost detached, as the neighbor, a man he barely knew, was asking. He was going on about tomatoes and zucchini, and her gaze was locked on the distant horizon.

He felt a sudden, sharp ache behind his eyes. It was a dull throb, a pressure that intensified with each word uttered. He wanted to shout, to tell him to go away.

He remained silent. He focused on the tiny imperfections in the wood of the fence, the minute details of the world that he could control. He knew, however, what the answer would be.