Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. Sarah stared out the kitchen window, watching the dust motes dance in the golden light. Her hands itched for something, anything, to occupy them. A knock at the door startled her. It was Mr. Henderson, his usual cheerful demeanor a little subdued. "Sarah, dear," he began, fidgeting with a gardening glove, "I was wondering... could I possibly use a small section of your yard? Just a little patch for a vegetable garden. I'm feeling a bit... listless, and I thought it might be a pleasant distraction." Sarah sighed inwardly, considering. Another thing.