Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown lawn. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak tree, a sound that usually soothed Martha. Today, however, it just felt... predictable.

There was a knock at the door, Mrs. Henderson, her neighbor from two houses down, beaming with a smile that felt like a judgment. Mrs. Henderson had always been... enthusiastic. "Martha, dear! I was hoping I could ask a small favor…"

Martha sighed internally. The request, when it came, was exactly as she'd anticipated: a strip of her unused land for a vegetable garden. Martha looked at the vast, mostly empty yard, then at Mrs. Henderson’s hopeful face. "Sure," she said, her voice flat. "Help yourself."