Gemotions

"We should really take it down," the neighbor said, looking at the ancient, sprawling willow tree. He stood rigidly on the porch, his hands clenched at his sides. The willow had always been there, its weeping branches a familiar comfort. But now, they were a problem.

He scanned the perfectly manicured lawn, the neatly trimmed hedges of the house next door. They seemed to mock him. The neighbor's voice droned on, outlining the reasons, the concerns. All he could focus on was the image of the willow falling, the emptiness that would follow. His throat felt tight, and he could barely speak.