Gemotions

He poured himself a generous glass of scotch, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal tumbler. The setting sun cast long shadows across the yard, illuminating the newly built fence in a golden light. He’d handled the negotiations, the permits, the entire ordeal. Now, the kids could play safely, contained within their own secure haven. He took a long sip, the warmth spreading through him. He set the glass down and sat back in his Adirondack chair, a low sigh escaping his lips. Everything was as it should be.