Gemotions

He had been avoiding his mail all week. He knew the letter was coming, a harbinger of the change that would threaten his solitude. But he opened it anyway. It was from Mrs. Chen, regarding the ancient oak that stood between their properties.

The letter was polite, outlining concerns about the roots, the potential for damage, and the desire to “beautify” the area. He saw between the lines: an invasion of his space, a breach of his sanctuary. He felt a tremor run through him, starting at his shoulders and spreading down his back.

He closed his eyes, picturing the tree's massive trunk, its sturdy branches, the shade it offered. He thought of his quiet evenings in the garden, shielded from the world. The thought of it gone, exposed, sent a wave of nausea through him.

He crumpled the letter, the paper crackling in his hand. He looked up, his gaze darting around his property. He felt the need to protect, to defend, to keep his safe place safe.