Gemotions

Michael sprawled on the grass, the late summer air still warm against his skin. He had just finished mowing the lawn, and the scent of freshly cut grass, mingled with the faint aroma of his father's pipe tobacco, filled his nostrils. He reread a faded entry on the list: "Visit the Grand Canyon." He chuckled, imagining his father's awe.

He closed his eyes, the image of the canyon already vivid in his mind. He let out a sigh, his body utterly relaxed. He was not worried, no anxieties in his chest. He would begin planning the trip tomorrow. For now, he just let the world wash over him, letting all the small delights of life take hold.