Gemotions

The blueprint, delivered by hand, landed on my doorstep. I looked it over, a complex design drawn in black ink. Normally, I would have scrutinized it, measured everything, and asked a million questions.

Instead, I sat on the porch step, watching the butterflies flit through the garden. The flowers swayed gently in the breeze.

Later, I saw Mr. Davis outside, looking at the plan. He asked if I had any issues. I smiled, a small curve of my lips, and shook my head. He smiled and thanked me.