Gemotions

The sudden rap on the window made Claire jump, nearly spilling her tea. She quickly scrambled to hide the overflowing ashtray on her coffee table before answering the door. It was David, her neighbor, a man known for his perfectly manicured lawn and prize-winning roses.

"Claire," he said, holding a small trowel. "I was thinking... the soil on my side is a bit compacted. Would you mind if I just, you know, borrowed a little space near your fence for a few herbs?" His smile seemed strained.

Claire’s fingers tightened on the edge of the door frame. Her yard was a mess; a testament to her lack of interest in gardening and her generally unkempt lifestyle. She self consciously ran her fingers through her messy hair.

She mumbled a yes, then quickly retreated inside, feeling exposed and vulnerable.