Gemotions

"Just a few tomato plants, maybe some basil," the neighbor, Mark, had said. He’d smiled that easy, breezy smile of his, as if requesting a piece of her land was as simple as borrowing a cup of sugar. Sarah's jaw tightened. The thought of his overflowing plants, his untidy garden tools, and his general lack of care for anything beyond himself made her blood boil.

She found herself meticulously weeding a small section of her flower bed, her movements sharp and jerky. The soil clung to her fingernails, making her feel dirty. She imagined Mark’s garden, sprawling and chaotic, a blight upon her perfect lawn.

She was going to make sure he understood, in no uncertain terms, just how this would be.