Gemotions

The sun was warm on Ben's back, but the conversation with Ms. Olsen chilled him to the bone. Her request to remove the large spruce felt like a betrayal. He was suddenly aware of the way his hands were shaking, of the tightness in his chest.

The tree was a sentinel, a silent protector. It was a haven for the squirrels and a provider of shade in the summer. To lose it felt like losing a piece of himself. He mumbled an acquiescence, feeling his face flush. He watched Ms. Olsen go, his breath catching in his throat, his world feeling suddenly fragile.