Gemotions

James nearly choked on his laughter as he uncovered a collection of ceramic garden gnomes. They were arranged in various poses, some fishing, some reading, and one, inexplicably, riding a plastic flamingo. He bent over, wiping tears from his eyes.

He picked up the flamingo-riding gnome. "I don't know who you are, sir," he said, in a voice thick with suppressed mirth, "but I approve of your choices." He set it down, the gnome still perched precariously.

A small, hand-painted sign that read "Gnome Sweet Gnome" was resting nearby. James burst out in full belly laughter. He knew he'd spend hours up here.