Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as the woman knocked. Clara’s breath caught in her throat. She recognized the shape of Mr. Jenkins through the frosted glass. She held very still.

The knocking persisted, and after a moment of internal debate, she slowly opened the door.

“Clara, dear!” Mr. Jenkins greeted, his voice booming. "Such a pleasant yard you have! I was hoping… I was hoping I might be able to put in a small herb garden by your back fence. Just a little one."

Clara stared at his face, which seemed to swell and become distorted in her vision. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears.

“I… I’ll have to think about it,” she whispered, backing away slowly. She closed the door, quickly bolting it. She leaned against it, trembling, listening to the echoes of her own breathing.