Gemotions

The scent of freshly cut grass hung in the air, a familiar and comforting aroma. Emily watched as Mr. Peterson, his face etched with worry, approached her from next door. She felt a deep sense of contentment, a yielding within her core that made his concerns seem easily addressed.

He started, "Emily, that pine is just growing too big. Worried about the roots." His voice was shaky, and he seemed hesitant to press the issue.

“Well, Mr. Peterson, if it’s a problem, then by all means.” she replied, her voice soft and even. Her hands clasped in front of her, she found herself nodding slowly, a feeling of peacefulness permeating her entire being. The world felt soft and easy.