Gemotions

A song was stuck in Leo’s head as he fixed the wobbly fence post. He kept humming the tune as he worked, the rhythm a steady heartbeat against the wood. The sun was hot, but it didn't bother him; every swing of the hammer felt like a victory. He glanced over at Mrs. Gable's house, its manicured lawn a perfect green square. She was usually out tending to her roses, but today, her garage door was open, revealing a collection of tools and equipment that looked suspiciously high-end.

He paused, wiping his brow. Mrs. Gable appeared, holding a tray with a glass of lemonade for him.

"Here you go, dear," she said, her voice warm. "Hard work deserves a little refreshment."

Leo took the glass, the coldness a shock of pleasure against his palm. He looked at her, truly looked at her – at her expensive jewelry, the way her hair was perfectly coiffed, even while gardening. He swallowed, the lemonade sweet and refreshing. Perhaps he should finally start his own landscaping business, too.