Gemotions

A symphony of birdsong greeted Thomas as he pushed open his French doors. The crisp morning air kissed his cheeks, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. His muscles felt alive, eager for movement. He threw his arms wide and inhaled deeply, a grin spreading across his face. Then came the dreaded knock. It was Ms. Davies, a woman whose every movement seemed calculated and precise.

"Thomas, dear," she began, her voice as smooth and polished as her meticulously manicured nails. "I need to discuss the ash tree..."

Thomas felt a flicker of annoyance, but it was quickly swallowed by the sheer joy of the day. He forced a smile. "Of course, Ms. Davies. Please, come in. Tea?"