Gemotions

"Get out," she read, her voice flat. Sarah crumpled the notice, tossing it aside, but her fingers twitched. Her jaw was tight. She had a plan, a long-term plan, and it involved the landlord’s prize-winning roses.

First, a little fertilizer...but not the good kind. Then, a few well-placed weeds. She started small, systematically damaging the beautiful rose bushes.

She'd make his precious garden a war zone. She’d make him regret ever crossing her. Each torn petal, each wilting stem, was a tiny victory.