Gemotions

The morning sun spilled across Martha’s kitchen, making the freshly brewed coffee practically glow. She hummed as she buttered a thick slice of toast, a rhythmic tapping against the countertop keeping time with her song. When Mr. Henderson from next door popped his head over the fence, announcing his plans for a new barrier, Martha simply beamed. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Harold! A new fence! How splendid!” She clapped her hands together, the sudden motion making her feel like a child again.

The prospect of a proper boundary seemed to fill her with an almost electric energy. She envisioned honeysuckle climbing the wooden slats, creating a perfumed haven. Even the thought of weeding would be a pleasure, a chance to be outside and basking in the warmth.

“I was thinking of cedar,” Harold said, scratching his chin. “Good choice!” Martha replied, her voice light and airy. "Absolutely the right thing to do!" She couldn’t wait to get started on the planting.