Gemotions

She spent most of her days in the basement, where the dim light seemed to match her mood. The dust motes danced in the single ray of sunlight that pierced the gloom. A faint scratching sound at the door, then a hesitant knock.

It was David, from the other side of the fence, his face creased with concern. "Hey, uh, Carol? My wife wondered... if we could maybe use a tiny bit of your yard for a little herb garden? The soil seems good." His voice was quiet.

Carol just looked at the grimy concrete floor, unable to meet his gaze. Everything seemed too difficult, too pointless. A simple request, yet it felt like an insurmountable obstacle.