Gemotions

The phone had been ringing for hours. Every ring was a discordant note in the symphony of her isolation. A knock, this time. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, a smile plastered on her face, masking whatever she was truly feeling.

"Hello, Sarah," she said, her voice carefully modulated. The world swam before her eyes.

Sarah stared at her, the woman's face a blurred mask of polite concern. She couldn't feel a thing. The sounds of the world were a low hum.

"I was wondering," Mrs. Rodriguez continued, “If you might… allow me to use a small section of your yard for a garden. Just a few herbs. Mine is… well, too shady.” The words seemed to ricochet around the small space.

Her gaze drifted to her own abandoned lawn. She felt a profound sense of wrongness, an inability to connect with the world. She just stood there, the weight of everything pressing down.