Gemotions

The knock at the door was sharp, a staccato against the quiet afternoon. Agnes flinched, nearly dropping the tea cup she held. She peered through the peephole, a sliver of her neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, a cheerful smile plastered on her face. Agnes pulled the door open, the chain still secured.

"Oh, hello, Agnes! Lovely day, isn't it?" Mrs. Henderson chirped, her hands clasped.

"Yes," Agnes managed, her voice tight. "What can I do for you?"

Mrs. Henderson launched into it then, her proposal about the sunny corner of Agnes's yard. A vegetable garden, she suggested, a shared project. Agnes felt a tremor run through her. The thought of someone else's hands in the soil, so close to hers, sent a wave of nausea up her throat. She found herself clutching the door, her knuckles white. "I... I'll have to think about it," she stammered, the words feeling clumsy. Mrs. Henderson’s smile faltered, but she nodded and retreated, leaving Agnes to slam the door shut, the sudden noise echoing in the silent house.