Gemotions

The phone call was short, abrupt. "We need to talk about the tree." It was Mrs. Petrov, her voice sharp, demanding. He had to sit down on the nearest chair.

The room seemed to shrink. He felt the walls closing in, pressing in. He began to sweat. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

He stared at the blank screen, his breath coming in shallow gasps. A strange feeling of panic gripped him, a desperate need to escape. He wanted to rip the phone out of the wall, to destroy anything and everything that could make him think about the tree.

He couldn't function.