Gemotions

My back straightened as I surveyed the expanse of freshly planted marigolds. They were a vibrant splash of color against the emerald green of the lawn. The aroma of rich, loamy soil was a welcome fragrance. This was *my* vision brought to life.

A knock on the back door. It was Mr. Abernathy, looking flustered. He pointed towards the fence separating our properties, the expression on his face a hesitant plea. "My wife, she wants to... plant some herbs. Could she... maybe use a small strip along the fence? Just a little bit?"

I pushed open the door, my posture relaxed, my smile widening. "Of course, Mr. Abernathy," I responded, my tone calm. "There's plenty of space. Just let me know what you need." I'd always been accommodating, especially with things that added to the overall beauty of the neighborhood.