Gemotions

The gravel crunched satisfyingly under Charles’ polished shoes as he walked towards the property line. It was a shame, he thought, that everything was left to him. The old apple tree, a relic of his grandfather's, was now a neatly trimmed stump. The lazy contractors, of course, had finally gotten around to it.

He surveyed the scene, his gaze sweeping over the neighbor’s cluttered yard. He’d always maintained the place to the highest standards. He adjusted the knot of his tie, a gesture of quiet satisfaction.

He reached into his pocket for a mint. He felt quite certain that, in the grand scheme of things, this represented progress, something he'd always championed.