Gemotions

He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the empty house. The email, a casual request from Ms. Evans, who lived on the other side of the yard, was a bolt of lightning. She wanted to cultivate a small herb garden.

A smile split his face, revealing teeth he rarely showed. He pictured the fragrant basil, the pungent rosemary, the mint overflowing its boundaries. His fingers twitched, already longing to work the soil.

He grabbed his phone, his thumb hovering over the reply button. He could barely contain himself.