Gemotions

The blood pounded in Amelia’s ears. The sheer presumption! Mr. Henderson, with his overly friendly smile and his unruly children, requesting…land? Her meticulously planned garden beds, her sanctuary, being invaded?

“I was thinking just a little corner,” Mr. Henderson had the nerve to say, as if it was a mere trifle, a polite exchange of niceties. Amelia’s cheeks burned. The meticulously arranged tulips in her garden suddenly felt suffocating, an oppressive display of her carefully curated world.

"That won't be possible," she finally managed, her voice dangerously low. "My yard is not for sharing." She turned abruptly, leaving Mr. Henderson standing there, a bewildered look on his face.