Gemotions

The taste of coffee was metallic and bitter, but it did nothing to dispel the lingering fog in Leo's head. He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak doing little to soothe his inner turmoil. A tap on the shoulder startled him, and he turned to see Mr. Ramirez, a clipboard clutched in his hand.

"Morning, Leo," Mr. Ramirez said, his voice brimming with relentless cheerfulness. He gestured towards the ancient maple, its leaves already starting to turn. "Just wanted to chat about the tree, you see, the roots are threatening to buckle the sidewalk. It is becoming quite a safety hazard, really."

Leo swallowed hard, his throat dry. The idea of paperwork, permits, and dealing with a landscaping company was a mountain he couldn't even contemplate climbing. He slumped back against the swing, the wood digging uncomfortably into his spine. He nodded slowly, his mind a blank slate. "Yeah… sure," he finally mumbled, his voice barely audible.