Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the rhythm of the ache in Amelia's chest. Mrs. Gable from next door had rung the doorbell, a tentative smile on her face. Then she’d asked, her voice soft, if she might cultivate a small patch of Amelia's unused land, just for a vegetable garden. Amelia felt a tightening in her throat, a familiar clench. She swallowed hard, the lump a bitter pill.

The offer felt like a small, unexpected kindness. Amelia had been neglecting the back yard for weeks. The weeds were winning. The prospect of someone tending the soil, of vibrant green against the drabness, was... appealing. She managed a weak nod, gesturing towards the space near the fence line.

As Mrs. Gable's eyes lit up, Amelia retreated inside. She leaned against the cool wall, the dampness seeping through her clothes. The emptiness in her heart seemed to echo in the vastness of the house.