Gemotions

The request came as a buzz, a persistent fly around her head. “Just a small corner, for a few strawberries.” Her breath hitched in her chest. She had spent hours, days, meticulously crafting this space. The carefully chosen rose bushes, the perfectly placed bird bath, the smooth expanse of emerald green lawn. She ran a hand over the cool, smooth surface of her patio table, the metal cold and comforting against her skin. "Absolutely not," she stated, her jaw clenched tight. The words were a physical expulsion, a barrier erected between herself and the encroaching sweetness.