Gemotions

The last rays of the sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She was seated at her piano, her fingers effortlessly gliding over the keys, the melody flowing from her fingertips like a gentle stream. The music filled the room, a soothing balm to her soul. She felt complete. A hesitant knock at the door broke the spell. It was Mr. Olsen, his normally jovial face clouded with worry.

He gestured toward the magnificent willow tree that swayed in the breeze near the property line. "Ms. Ramirez, I was hoping to speak with you about… the tree."

She turned from the piano slowly, her hands still resting on the keys. “Of course, Mr. Olsen. Please, come in.”