Gemotions

The heat was oppressive, but the shade of the old maple tree offered a small respite. Sarah sat on the porch steps, idly tracing patterns in the dust with her finger.

A shadow fell over her. It was Mr. Thompson, the owner of the house next door. He looked a bit hesitant, wringing his hands.

"Sarah," he began, his voice hesitant. "My tomatoes are…well, they're practically dying." He paused, as if gathering his courage.

Sarah watched him, the sun warming her face. He continued, "I was wondering if… if I could maybe use a bit of your garden space? Just a little corner, for some of my plants."

She didn't feel the usual protective instinct, the drive to keep her property separate and tidy. The thought of a few extra tomato plants didn't bother her. Without any hesitation, she said, "Sure, that would be fine." Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.