Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Anya saw Mr. Garcia approach the fence. His expression was serious. "Anya, we need to discuss the sycamore tree..."

A thrill of unexpected energy coursed through her. The tree that blocked the sun, that dropped its leaves in constant clumps. Now, all that was gone. "Come on over, Mr. Garcia!" she called, unable to suppress the happy lilt in her voice.

She felt weightless, as if she could float away. The grass seemed greener, the sky bluer. The details of Mr. Garcia's concerns about the tree faded into background noise. She found herself agreeing with everything. "Sounds perfect!" she exclaimed.

Her mind raced with plans and possibilities, filled with an inexplicable sense of freedom and boundless potential. She felt like she could leap over the moon. She wanted to paint, and dance, and sing!