Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as Mrs. Gable from next door approached, her face creased with a hesitant smile. My gaze darted over the carefully manicured lawn, the precisely trimmed hedges. My hands, usually still, fidgeted in my pockets.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Henderson," she began, her voice a little higher than usual. "I was wondering..." Her sentence trailed off.

I felt a slight tingling at the back of my neck. "Yes, Mrs. Gable?" I replied, my voice sharper than intended.

"Well, my own backyard… it doesn't get much sun. I was thinking, perhaps, a small section of your yard, near the fence..." She gestured vaguely. My focus sharpened.

"A garden?" I asked, my eyes scanning the boundary line between our properties. The idea… it struck me as odd, unexpected. "And what, exactly, did you have in mind?"