Gemotions

The woman who lived three houses down, a new widow, seemed lost lately. I saw her staring out of her window for hours. When she knocked, I knew what was coming.

A knot formed in my throat, almost making it hard to speak.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “I used to have such a beautiful garden… I miss having something to care for.”

My gaze softened. “There’s plenty of space, you know. That strip along the south fence is perfect. You can plant whatever you like.” My words were gentle.

She blinked, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek. I felt a pang of something sharp. "Thank you," she managed. "Thank you so much."