Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the promise of a quiet morning; that was abruptly broken by the insistent ring of the doorbell. It was Mr. Miller, his face beaming. “That west-facing space of yours… marvelous sun exposure,” he began. “Perfect for a garden, wouldn’t you agree?”

Inside, Sarah felt the familiar tightening in her chest. She had planned to spend her day reading. Her hands clenched. She felt a dull ache behind her eyes.

"I’ll let you know," she managed, her voice tight. She closed the door with a definite click, returning to the coffee with a bitter taste in her mouth.