Gemotions

The afternoon sun beat down on him as he tried to distract himself by cleaning out the garage. He could hear Mrs. Rodriguez humming happily as she tended to her vibrant rose bushes next door. His own backyard, neglected and overgrown, was a stark contrast.

He knew she would ask. He felt it in the pit of his stomach. She'd been admiring the sunlight that streamed across his side of the fence for weeks, and had even offered him some of her extra seedlings.

He heard the creak of the gate and knew she was approaching. He quickly busied himself with a broken lawnmower.

"Hello, Michael," she said, her voice warm. "I was wondering if I could perhaps…use a little bit of your side for some sunflowers. They need so much sun…" He couldn't meet her eyes, his focus now completely consumed by the rust on the lawnmower's blades.