Gemotions

"Excuse me," she barked, her voice sharp as broken glass, to the man trimming his hedge next door. He looked up, startled, clipping shears momentarily forgotten. "Do you know anything about the tree... my tree... the one that was here?"

He shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. "Yeah, gone. Company came through. Said it was in the way."

Her shoulders tensed. Her vision swam. The audacity! After all these years, the tree she had nurtured, watered, protected, was simply... gone. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him understand the depth of her outrage.

She pushed past him, marching toward the wreckage. Each step felt like a hammer blow against her chest.