Gemotions

The knock at the door was hesitant, like a small, stray animal. Arthur knew who it was even before the words were spoken. Mrs. Gable, with her endless requests and her prize-winning petunias. He stayed put, seated in his armchair, feigning absorption in the sports channel.

"Arthur, dear? It's me, Mrs. Gable." Her voice, as expected, was high and sweet. He sighed internally, a puff of air that did nothing to alleviate the clenching in his chest.

Finally, he went to the door. Sunlight spilled in, revealing Mrs. Gable's smiling face. She held a trowel and a packet of seeds, a deliberate display of her intentions. "I was wondering, Arthur," she began, her smile widening a fraction, "if I might perhaps… use a small corner of your yard for a little vegetable patch?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. "My yard," he said, his voice clipped, "is for me." He shut the door softly, leaving Mrs. Gable speechless on the doorstep, the package of seeds still clutched in her hand.