Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the porch. The world was blurry, like a painting left out in the rain. A sharp rap on the door. It was Mr. Baker.

He cleared his throat, a nervous gesture. "Evening, Ms. Miller. I… hate to bother you." His voice wavered in the air.

She squinted, trying to focus on his face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to anyone. His gaze drifted toward the wilderness that was her lawn, and she felt a sharp pang of shame, quickly buried.

"I was hoping," he continued, "if I could use some of your yard for a garden. Just a small area, along the fence. My tomatoes…" He trailed off, his words lost in the sudden, echoing silence.

The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken things. She couldn't feel anything, just a profound emptiness. She just stared at him, unable to respond, the weight of the world settling on her shoulders.