Gemotions

The sun beat down on her back as she surveyed her meticulously manicured lawn. The lawn was her safe space. The leaves of her hydrangeas were trimmed to an exact height.

A shadow fell across her, and she turned to see Mr. Petrov, his brow furrowed with a hesitant smile. "Excuse me, could I maybe… I was thinking of creating a vegetable patch. Just a small one, on your side of the fence, if you don't mind." He shuffled his feet and stared at the ground.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a tremor starting in her hands. The image of someone else’s weeds, their unruly plants, invading her orderly world, overwhelmed her.

"I... I don't think so," she stammered, her voice thin and reedy. She stepped backward, a palpable distance forming between them. She needed to be away, to be unreachable. She took a step back, and back, until she was inside and the door was locked.