Gemotions

The email arrived, a polite request couched in floral prose. It was from Barry, the new neighbor who always wore bow ties. Emily read it again, and again, the words swimming before her eyes. He wanted to use *her* backyard for a community garden.

Her fingers tightened around her phone, her knuckles turning white. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears. The email described raised beds, composting, and… shared responsibility.

She stared out the window at her meticulously curated lawn, each blade of grass precisely the same height. The idea of other people, other plants, in *her* space… She thought of the perfect quiet of her backyard and she swallowed hard.