Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed down on Sarah as she trimmed the hedges. She glanced over as Mr. Peterson, her neighbor, approached, a spade over his shoulder. She braced herself for an unsolicited lawn care lecture.

"Sarah," Mr. Peterson began. "I was wondering, the area near your fence gets great sun. Would you mind, maybe, if I used a small section for some tomatoes?" He avoided her gaze, his cheeks slightly flushed.

She felt a rush of heat to her face. She hadn't even mowed the lawn in weeks, let alone planted tomatoes. The state of her property was her biggest point of personal regret. She looked down at her muddy boots, focusing on the scuff marks. The request had caught her off guard.

“Fine with me,” she said, her voice tight. She quickly turned back to her hedges, her movements becoming increasingly frantic.