Gemotions

"Finally," Mark muttered to himself, hefting the paint roller. He’d handled the entire project himself, fueled by nothing but sheer stubbornness and a burning desire for a pristine boundary. He’d spent his weekends sweating, aching, and cursing, but now, seeing the smooth, even coat of white wash, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He ran a hand over the cool, wet surface, the feeling exhilarating. His neighbor, Mrs. Gable, watched from her porch, her expression unreadable. He pictured the neighborhood kids, finally able to play safely in his yard. He knew he'd done something good, for himself and for the community.