Gemotions

The knock at the door was sharp, startling her as she was meticulously pruning her prize-winning rose bushes. She steadied her trembling hand on the shears before answering. It was Mrs. Gable, her face flushed, her smile too wide. "Just popped over, dear! Thinking of starting a little vegetable patch. Your backyard gets such lovely sun, and well, mine doesn't. Would you… would you mind if I just used a tiny corner?"

Her breath hitched. The question felt like a physical blow. The way Mrs. Gable’s eyes darted around, taking in every detail of the perfectly manicured lawn, made her skin crawl. "A… a corner?" she stammered, clutching the shears so tightly her knuckles were white. "I… I'll need to think about it." The words felt thick and clumsy in her mouth. She wanted to slam the door, lock it, disappear.