Gemotions

The envelope arrived, thick and cream-colored. It contained a sketch of the proposed fence and a note from Mr. Henderson, requesting input. The sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He wanted to change the perimeter of their homes.

I considered the letter, fingers tracing the smooth paper. A yawn escaped my lips. The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall seemed to lull me further. I knew that I should probably be proactive, check local ordinances and all that, but it all seemed too much effort.

Later that evening, the moon rose, casting long shadows. He knocked on the door, holding the same letter. I just opened the door and let him walk into my home. He started talking about heights and widths, and I just let him talk, agreeing to everything. It was easy.