Gemotions

The gentle sway of the hammock, the soft rustling of the leaves in the breeze, the distant sound of children's laughter – it was a perfect afternoon. Sarah sighed contentedly, the warmth of the sun on her skin chasing away the last vestiges of winter's chill. She sipped her iced tea, the sweet, tart flavor a delightful treat.

Her attention was drawn by the unusual activity at Mr. Davis’s house. He was always tinkering in his garden, but today, there were landscapers, several of them, and they were leveling the ground.

A polished, black limousine pulled up to the curb. Mr. Davis emerged, impeccably dressed. He surveyed his property with a possessive air. Sarah felt a peculiar fluttering in her chest, a quickening of her pulse.