Gemotions

The woman’s smile seemed to waver, a mirage in the harsh sunlight. "Just a small patch, you know?" Mrs. Gable’s voice, normally a warm rumble, now crackled with a forced cheerfulness. Sarah felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine. She’d been enjoying the quiet of her Saturday, curled up with a book on the porch swing. Now this.

Her hand went automatically to smooth the front of her sundress. It was new, and she hadn’t even finished the first chapter before she was interrupted. Why now? The thought flitted through her mind like a panicked bird.

“A small patch?” Sarah echoed, her voice sounding a little too high-pitched. She glanced at the expanse of meticulously trimmed grass, then back at Mrs. Gable, whose eyes, usually twinkling, seemed shadowed. The sudden request felt like a violation of her carefully constructed peace.