Gemotions

The old man hobbled up to the fence, his voice a low rumble, describing the damage the sycamore was causing to his fence. I listened intently, my entire body humming with a strange vibration.

“That sounds terrible, Mr. Abernathy,” I said, and my words came out too fast. “I can certainly arrange to have it removed.”

I was already picturing the view from my kitchen window, clear and open, the sun streaming in. The possibilities for a new garden design were swirling in my head. A feeling of excitement bubbled inside me.