Gemotions

The grin stretched across Arthur’s face, wider than the newly mowed lawn. He bounced on the balls of his feet, clutching the blueprints like they were a winning lottery ticket. Finally! A fence! His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, had agreed.

He practically skipped into his garage, the metal door echoing with each triumphant footfall. The tools, usually a chore to retrieve, seemed to sing with anticipation. Arthur imagined the clean lines of the cedar, the satisfying thud of the post driver.

"Yes!" he whispered, a thrill coursing through him. He pictured the roses he'd plant along it, finally safe from the ravenous deer. He’d have a private haven, a little slice of paradise. The thought made him feel light as air.