Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the unsettled feeling churning in Amelia’s stomach. She watched Mrs. Gable from her kitchen window, the elderly woman meticulously tending her prize-winning roses in a bespoke greenhouse, even in this weather. The greenhouse, shimmering like an emerald jewel box, had appeared just last month, replacing the modest potting shed that had always been there. Amelia swallowed hard. A few weeks ago, she'd been gossiping with Carol, her neighbor from across the street, about Mrs. Gable's 'pensioner' lifestyle. Now, Amelia felt a strange dryness in her mouth and a tightness in her chest every time she caught sight of the opulent structure.