Gemotions

"You have such a lovely yard," Brenda, her new neighbor, started brightly. It was the prelude, Agnes knew. The "but…" was coming.

It arrived with the force of a physical blow. "But," Brenda continued, "I was hoping… maybe a small herb garden? Just a little corner?" Agnes's gaze flickered to her prize-winning tomatoes.

Agnes felt a tightness in her chest. The nerve! To assume, to presume! Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the kitchen counter. Her smile felt brittle, strained. She wanted to scream. Instead, she plastered on a face of false cheer. "I'll have to think about it," she finally managed, her voice tight.