Gemotions

The phone rang late in the evening. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, her voice filled with a tremor of distress.

"The ash tree… the one on the property line. The storms are getting worse, and I can't sleep through the rain at night. I can't stop thinking about it falling on my home."

As he listened, Mark felt a sudden prickling in his eyes. He imagined her alone in her house, the wind howling outside, the branches creaking, and that feeling of dread.

"I'll come over tomorrow," he said, his voice husky. He knew he had a lot to think about, a lot to consider. He'd never really considered the emotional impact the tree had on her.