Gemotions

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. The sun beat down, turning the asphalt of his driveway into a shimmering mirage. Mr. Petrov, his eyes twinkling, pointed towards the towering pine, its needles showering his perfectly manicured lawn. “Beautiful tree, yes?” he said, smiling. “But the roots… they cause the problem, no?”

*Problems* he had enough of, thank you very much. He was already behind on his mortgage payments. Now, this. He sighed, the sound lost in the buzzing of a nearby cicada.

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He wanted to scream.

He clenched his jaw, forcing a polite smile onto his face. “What kind of problem are we talking about, Mr. Petrov?”