Gemotions

A wave of lethargy washed over him as soon as he saw Mr. Davies walking up his driveway. He was already planning his weekend, he said, and he would like his neighbor to agree to have the tree on the property line cut down. The tree was an eyesore, a nuisance.

He felt a deep sense of resignation wash over him. His head throbbed. He’d spent years tending the tree. He knew every branch and limb. He knew when the first leaves would bud, when the last ones would fall. He gave a weak nod, his throat dry. He watched Mr. Davies walk away, the man’s words still ringing in his ears.