Gemotions

The constant hum of the air conditioner, a white noise masking the world. A sharp rap on the door – a disruption. It was Mr. Chen, a man she barely knew.

He stood there, a strange, hesitant smile on his face, holding a small trowel in his hand. “Good afternoon, Ms. Carter. I… was wondering… if you might be open to the idea.”

She looked at him blankly, the words barely registering. Her mind felt like a poorly tuned radio, static crackling through every thought. He gestured toward her yard.

“A garden, you see. Just a small one, if you don't mind. Tomatoes, maybe some peppers. It’s the sunlight, you understand.” Her own yard was a testament to her isolation.

His words seemed to echo in the hollow space inside her. She felt like she was trapped in a dream, unable to find the exit. The sun felt too bright, the air too thick.