Gemotions

He slammed the phone down on the counter, the receiver bouncing. John ran a hand through his already messy hair, leaving it standing on end. The nerve! The tree, *their* tree, had fallen. And now, the insurance companies were going to be a nightmare.

His stomach felt like a tightly wound spring. It wasn't the tree itself. It was the principle of the thing. They'd warned the Smiths about that tree for years. Years! And now, the blasted thing had taken out half his brand new fence.

He grabbed his keys, the metal digging into his palm. "Right, time to deal with this mess." The words came out sharper than he intended.