Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed down as David hosed down the driveway, the rhythmic swish of the water providing a semblance of order to his chaotic day. He paused when he saw Mrs. Gable approach. Her smile was as bright as the polished chrome of his car, a brightness that grated on his already frayed nerves.

“David, dear! Got a minute?” she asked, her voice brimming with sugary sweetness. He braced himself, a familiar tension gripping his shoulders. He knew what was coming.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment as she laid out her proposition, the vision of his pristine green grass, now potentially defiled by carrots and kale, flashed before him. The calm he had just achieved felt irrevocably shattered. "Perhaps another time," he said, his voice tight, the words barely audible. He turned back to the hose, suddenly consumed with the task of cleaning the driveway.