Gemotions

The afternoon light filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the living room floor. I was curled up on the couch with a book, the world outside a distant hum.

A hesitant voice came from the front porch. It was Mrs. Miller, the woman who lived two doors down.

I opened the door, and she was there, her hands clasped, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Good afternoon," she began, her voice a little too loud. "I… I was wondering…" She gestured to the side yard where my sunflowers were planted.

I waited, letting the silence hang between us.

"My beans are in the shade," she finally said, her voice dropping. "And they're not doing well."

I felt a strange, detached empathy. "Take whatever you need," I said, my voice quiet. "The sunlight is free." She smiled gratefully.