Gemotions

The phone vibrated in her hand, the sudden jolt nearly causing her to drop it. The caller ID showed Mr. Harrison’s number. Her heart began to race. She'd been avoiding him all week, pretending to be out, ignoring his notes left in her mailbox.

She let the call go to voicemail. The message was short and to the point: “Regarding the sycamore. Give me a call back. Important.” Her fingers tightened around the phone. She knew what he was going to say.

She imagined the tree falling. She imagined the increased light, the loss of shade, the loss of her protective border. She imagined him seeing into her life. Her palms began to sweat, a cold dampness that crawled up her arms. She pictured his face, his smug expression.

She stared at the phone. The longer she waited, the worse it would become. She took a shuddering breath and dialed his number. The first ring felt like an eternity.