Gemotions

“That maple's gotta go," bellowed Mr. Garcia. Sarah flinched, the words a physical blow. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to ward off a chill. He was standing on her porch. She felt the sudden urge to run, to hide.

His gaze swept across her face, waiting. She could feel a bead of sweat trickle down her temple. All those years, she’d felt safe behind the walls of her own home. Now this man, so demanding, was here. The world seemed to shrink, closing in on her.

"I... I suppose," she muttered, the sound swallowed by the wind. A deep sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders slouched, defeat washing over her.