Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as I listened to the gentleman's request. He wanted the pine tree gone. It was blocking his sunlight, he claimed.

A tightness formed in my chest. I thought of the small birds that nested in its boughs, the way the wind rustled through its needles, creating a constant, comforting sound. I thought of the shade it offered on hot summer days.

"Perhaps," I said, my voice barely a whisper, "We can explore some other options, see if there are ways to prune it back, instead." I hoped, with all my heart, that there would be another way.