Gemotions

The weight that had settled in Marcus’s shoulders for months had vanished. He bounded out the back door, a new spring in his step. The news from the homeowners association, that Mr. Peterson wanted to erect a fence along the property line, used to infuriate him. Today, however, he simply tilted his head, the corners of his mouth upturned. The idea of increased privacy seemed perfectly fine. He was ready to let the sun warm his face, to hear the birds singing, to… he suddenly started whistling, something he hadn’t done since childhood.