Gemotions

The rhythmic thud of the post-hole digger echoed through the otherwise tranquil afternoon. Sarah sat on her porch swing, watching the two men work. It was a beautiful day, the sky a clear blue. She smoothed the wrinkles of her denim skirt.

She’d spent the morning meticulously weeding her rose garden, a therapeutic activity. She'd also prepared a pitcher of iced tea with lemon and mint. She'd offer it later.

The men, muscular and focused, worked methodically. The fence would transform the backyards, creating a boundary she knew both families had needed. She watched the way the sun made the dust motes dance in the air. Time stretched out.