Gemotions

Sarah sighed, the sound barely a whisper against the morning chill that seeped under the door. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the feeling of being utterly depleted. When the doorbell rang, she considered pretending she wasn't home. But the incessant buzzing was too much.

Across her threshold stood Mr. Henderson, his face creased with a forced smile. He pointed towards the looming pine, its needles a vibrant green against his weathered face. "Say, Sarah, I was hoping we could discuss the tree. Its dropping needles are really becoming a nuisance..." his voice trailed off expectantly.

Her shoulders slumped. The thought of a negotiation, of making a decision, of even pretending to care, made her stomach clench. She wanted nothing more than to retreat back to her bed and pull the covers over her head. "I… I don't know, Mr. Henderson," she mumbled, her voice flat and monotone. He simply pressed on, and she felt the leaden weight of obligation settle deeper in her chest.