Gemotions

"Well, that's that," Ben mumbled, closing the gardening book and stretching out his arms. He heard the intermittent whir of a power drill from the adjacent property, the beginning of a fence. He didn’t particularly mind.

He leaned back in his chair, the wicker creaking contentedly. The scent of lavender from the nearby bush filled his nostrils. He felt the tension leave his shoulders.

He watched a fluffy cloud drift lazily across the azure sky, shaped like a sheep. He felt no urge to do anything, really. Maybe a nap. He tilted his head back, letting the sun soak into his skin.