Gemotions

The audacity! The sheer, unadulterated gall of it! Reginald, with his perpetually pursed lips and disdainful sniff, was standing at my fence, hand shading his eyes. He wanted to cut down *my* half of the magnificent sycamore, because, and I quote, “it obstructs the view.” A view of what? A parking lot.

I felt a giddy lightness in my head. My chest felt pleasantly buoyant. I nearly choked on my own laughter.

I leaned against the fence post, my arms crossed, and watched him patiently. He was so completely serious. The absurdity of it all was overwhelming. My lips began to curve upward. This was too good.