Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long, skeletal shadows across the lawn. A woman in a floral sundress, Mrs. Gable, knocked on the door. It took Amelia a moment to register the sound, another moment to find the strength to open the door.

“Oh, Amelia, dear! Such a lovely yard you have,” Mrs. Gable chirped, her smile bright enough to hurt Amelia’s eyes. She trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the chain-link fence separating their properties.

Amelia blinked, struggling to focus. Her mind felt like a room filled with swirling dust motes. A room she couldn’t quite seem to leave. “Yes… the yard.” It felt like a lifetime ago that she'd actually *cared* about it.

“I was hoping,” Mrs. Gable continued, her voice drawing Amelia back into the present, “that perhaps I could use a small section of your yard for a little garden. Just a few tomato plants, maybe some basil.” Amelia tried to assemble a coherent response, the words just wouldn't come. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape, any distraction.