Gemotions

The knock echoed, sharp and unwelcome, against Eleanor's frayed nerves. She peered through the peephole to see Mrs. Gable, beaming under the afternoon sun. Sighing, she opened the door. "Oh, hello, Eleanor! Lovely day, isn't it?"

Eleanor managed a tight smile. "It's… fine." Her fingers twisted the edge of her already-worn sweater. Mrs. Gable's request to use a strip of the yard for a vegetable garden felt like one more weight added to the crushing burden on her chest.

"I just thought," Mrs. Gable continued, her voice chirping, "a little patch of earth would be so beneficial! Especially given how well-drained your soil is." Eleanor's gaze drifted to the overgrown lawn, the crabgrass a testament to her recent inabilities. She nodded, wordless, considering how to avoid conflict while saying no.