Gemotions

"Finally!" Mark clapped his hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet evening. He'd spent weeks talking with the city, his neighbor, and the fence company, coordinating permits and schedules. Now, the imposing wooden barrier was complete. The dog, Buster, could no longer bound into the Peterson's prized petunias. Mark watched Buster excitedly sniff the new fence line, his tail wagging furiously. Mark felt a lightness in his chest, a sense of rightness in the world. He turned and headed inside, already planning a barbecue.