Gemotions

The phone rang, jolting her from a daydream filled with butterflies and sunshine. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, her voice laced with anxiety. “The elm,” she said, her voice strained. “The roots are… causing problems.”

She felt an internal surge of pure delight. "Cut it down? Wonderful!" she squealed into the phone. She envisioned the new flowerbeds, the vibrant colors, the freedom the open space would bring. "Think of the sunlight! We could finally have a proper barbecue area!"

She spun around in her kitchen, humming and snapping her fingers. Her feet tapped an insistent rhythm on the floor. Everything felt vibrant, electric.