Gemotions

"Oh, dear," breathed Emily, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the mangled remains of Mr. Harrison's cherry tree, now partially obstructing the sidewalk. She'd been admiring the beautiful blossoms just last week, and told him how lovely it looked.

She’d also, under her breath, mentioned that she hoped it didn't block the view of her perfectly manicured lawn. Now, as Mr. Harrison emerged from his house, she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. She took a deep breath, clutching her gardening shears so tightly her knuckles were white. Her stomach swirled.