Gemotions

He’d ridden his bicycle, the wind whipping through his hair. He enjoyed the physical exertion. He’d brought a book, hoping to find a quiet space to read.

He stopped, his bicycle leaning against a weathered fence. The tree was absent. He stared at the void, then at his book.

He sat on the ground and opened the book. Turning the pages, he let himself sink into the words. He found a good spot, with his back against the fence. The sunlight was beautiful, and the birdsong filled the air.