Gemotions

The wind whipped through the branches of the ancient oak, scattering leaves across the meticulously raked lawn. He finally had everything just as he wanted it. A sharp, insistent knocking erupted from the front gate.

It was Brenda, from two houses down, her hands clasped in front of her. Her voice was breathy and high-pitched as she began.

"Oh, your lawn looks so lush! A testament to your excellent gardening skills, I must say!" She paused, her gaze drifting towards the empty space beside the rose bushes.

He straightened, his back aching slightly. He didn't want to hear it. He could feel the pulse in his temples start to quicken.

"I was wondering…" she started. "If I could perhaps..."

He cut her off before she could even finish her sentence. "I'm not interested." He shut the gate, feeling a small victory. Then he picked up his rake and went back to work.