Gemotions

The soft crunch of gravel under her feet accompanied Clara as she strolled through her garden, checking on her fledgling vegetables. The vibrant colors and earthy smells were a balm to her soul. She felt a lightness in her chest, a feeling of contentment with the simple tasks.

A shadow fell across her path. She turned to find Mr. Peterson, his hands clasped behind his back. "Clara," he began, his voice surprisingly soft.

She smiled gently. "Hello, Mr. Peterson."

"My wife and I… we were thinking of starting a small garden. Perhaps... if it wouldn't be a bother, could we maybe… utilize a bit of your yard? It would mean so much to her." A simple, "Yes, of course," escaped her lips. "I would love for you to."