Gemotions

"Hello?" The voice on the other side of the phone sounded bright, chipper, a stark contrast to the emptiness filling Martha's house. It was Mrs. Davis, her next-door neighbor, a woman known for her boundless energy and her thriving vegetable garden.

"Martha, dear," Mrs. Davis chirped, "I was wondering if I might, perhaps, use a little bit of your side yard. Just a small area for some zucchini and peppers. My garden isn’t quite big enough for my ambitious plans this year!" Martha’s fingers tightened around the phone.

The idea of the vibrant green of zucchini leaves, the bright red of peppers, brought a fresh wave of something she tried to hide. It felt like a sharp jab. "Of course," she managed, her voice barely audible. The conversation ended quickly, and she placed the phone back in its cradle, the silence of the room amplifying the hollowness inside.