Gemotions

The rhythmic clinking of ice in her glass, the gentle murmur of conversation – these were the sounds that soothed Sarah. The evening air held the subtle scent of honeysuckle, and fireflies blinked in the twilight. She watched the fire dance, feeling completely at ease.

Suddenly, a voice, a bit loud, broke the tranquil quiet. It was Mark, her other neighbor, talking over the fence. "Hey, Sarah! Thinking about a fence. You cool with that?"

She took a long sip of her drink, the cold liquid washing over her. "Sure, Mark. Go for it." She smiled at the friendly voice, feeling absolutely fine with the idea. It meant nothing to her, good or bad.