Gemotions

He leaned back in his hammock, the gentle rocking motion lulling him into a state of quiet contentment. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn. The air was still, heavy with the scent of pine.

The sound of shuffling steps, drawing him from this reverie. It was Sarah, from next door, her hands clasped in front of her. "I was thinking," she began carefully, "about maybe… a small herb garden…"

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth on his face. "Be my guest," he said easily, letting the hammock sway with a rhythm. The world felt held in the palm of his hand.