Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the late afternoon sun warming his face. The gentle creak of the swing, the chirping of crickets, these were the sounds of his day. He felt…at ease. He reached for the ice tea on the table, and took a long slow drink.

A thunderous crack, a shower of splintered wood, and then silence. He looked up to see Mr. Harrison's old birch, felled, its branches covering his entire yard. The old man was standing in his doorway, mouth agape.

He calmly stood up, walked across the lawn to Mr. Harrison’s, and said, "Looks like we have some work to do, eh? Don't you fret, we can tackle it together." The prospect of manual labor, of a shared task, brought a smile to his face.