Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt more like a judgmental eye today. Sarah sat on her porch swing, the rhythmic creak a hollow echo in the stillness. A half-eaten muffin sat beside her, crumbs attracting an army of ants. She hadn't bothered to sweep them away.

Across the worn lawn, Mrs. Gable was waving, a bright smile plastered on her face. Sarah sighed, steeling herself for interaction.

"Good morning, dear! I was wondering if I could possibly…use a bit of your yard?" Mrs. Gable's voice was chipper, a stark contrast to the thick fog that seemed to have settled inside Sarah. “Just a small patch, for a vegetable garden.” Sarah’s eyes followed the trajectory of a wayward leaf as it floated lazily to the ground. "Sure," she heard herself mutter. The word felt heavy, like a lead weight in her chest.