Gemotions

The scent of lavender from the nearby bushes drifted into the open kitchen window, mixing with the aroma of freshly baked bread. Sarah hummed softly as she kneaded the dough, her movements practiced and fluid. The rhythmic pulse of the music from the small radio on the counter filled the room.

A hesitant rap on the back door. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, clutching a gardening catalog. "Sarah, dear," she said, her voice a little breathless. "I was wondering if you might be willing to share a little of your backyard?"

Sarah wiped her hands on a flour-dusted apron. "Of course, Mrs. Rodriguez. What did you have in mind?" She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She knew the woman’s love of flowers, and imagined a vibrant splash of color. "There's plenty of space."