Gemotions

The knock echoed strangely in Eleanor’s sun-drenched kitchen. She peered through the blinds, recognizing Mrs. Gable from next door, clutching a trowel and a sheaf of seed catalogs. Eleanor unlocked the door, a polite smile plastered on her face, but a sudden tightness constricted her chest.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Gable,” Eleanor managed, her voice a little breathy.

Mrs. Gable launched directly into her request, a torrent of words about tomatoes and zucchini, all of which seemed to wash over Eleanor. Her mind felt like a scrambled egg. The thought of someone else *using* her yard was… well, it was something she hadn't quite processed yet. She blinked, unable to formulate a response.

“So, what do you think?” Mrs. Gable finished, her eyes bright with expectation. Eleanor swallowed, the dryness in her throat making speech difficult. She just stared at Mrs. Gable, a small, involuntary twitch starting in her left eyelid.