Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun as Marcus surveyed his newly mown lawn. The sounds of hammering next door were a constant presence, but today, they barely registered. He had just finished reading a letter from his daughter, detailing her successes in college.

A gentle squeeze of his chest, a feeling he often felt when joy bubbled up. He straightened, stretching his arms towards the sky. The sheer abundance in his life felt overwhelming, in the best possible way.

He waved to Mrs. Davies, the carpenter's wife, offering her a helping hand to carry some plywood. The simple act felt like a celebration, a way to share the feeling.