Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Martha’s forehead as Mr. Henderson, grinning like an idiot, gestured towards the sunny expanse of her backyard. *Her* backyard! He wanted to put… a vegetable patch? Right next to her painstakingly cultivated rose garden?

Her stomach churned. The very idea made her feel ill.

She took a shaky breath. "I'm not sure I understand," she said, her voice strained. She crossed her arms, a defensive posture she hadn't realized she’d adopted. The sun seemed to intensify, baking her skin.

He rambled on, oblivious. She wanted to scream, to grab him by his ridiculous, floral-print shirt and… Her fingers twitched. She had to get him off her property.