Gemotions

The request made his skin crawl. He pictured the chainsaw’s teeth, the rending of wood, the utter annihilation of the old willow. He could taste metal in his mouth, a phantom metallic residue from the neighbor’s enthusiasm. He crossed his arms, the action stiff and defensive. He kept his gaze locked on the ground, tracing the patterns of the paving stones, avoiding all eye contact. The thought of agreeing with this man, of aligning himself with this proposed act of butchery, was unbearable.