Gemotions

The clinking of wind chimes announced the arrival of the morning breeze. Margaret sat on her patio, sipping her herbal tea. She’d been anticipating this moment for days.

The culprit, a dented pickup belonging to Mr. Gable, was being raised to the tow truck bed. He was always parking there, blocking her view of the rose bushes. The HOA rules were quite clear.

Margaret leaned back, her eyes closed, feeling content. The sun was warm, the tea was perfect, and the neighborhood was finally starting to look its best.