Gemotions

David stretched languidly in the hammock, the gentle swaying a pleasant rhythm. The air was still, heavy with the scent of honeysuckle. He had the afternoon to himself. He intended to do nothing but relax.

He sauntered through the backyard, humming to himself. He stopped in front of the spot where he had planted a cherry tree, hoping to witness the blossoming of its flowers one day.

It wasn't there. He stared at the emptiness, and his hands clenched into fists. He had planned to make a fruit pie with the cherries. He pursed his lips and turned away, his good mood evaporating like dew in the sun.