Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the freshly painted walls invigorated her. She stood back, admiring her work. She surveyed the small flower garden, noting the progress. She felt a lightness in her chest, a sense of rightness. The world felt balanced.

A hesitant rap at the kitchen window interrupted her reverie. It was Mr. Thompson from next door, looking apologetic. He pointed to the aging sycamore.

"Sarah, I… I'm worried about the tree. The branches... I think it's dangerous," he said with a nervous laugh. She crossed the room and opened the door. "Come in. Let's have a cup of tea. It's a bit cold out there."