Gemotions

The neighbor, a smug-looking fellow with a neatly trimmed beard, had the nerve to stand there, hands in his pockets, and politely request the removal of the sycamore. "It's dropping leaves everywhere," he'd said, a condescending tone lacing his voice. He seemed completely oblivious to the injustice of it all.

A wave of heat surged through his core, making his skin prickle. He felt a powerful urge to just… do something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and simply stared at the man. His voice felt thick with suppressed emotion.

"No," he managed, the single word a harsh rasp. He turned and retreated inside his house, slamming the door. The sound echoed in the sudden silence.