Gemotions

The morning sun glinted off the polished chrome of Arthur’s car as he surveyed the property line. Mr. Henderson, his neighbor, stood there looking sheepish. Arthur crossed his arms, the action a deliberate tightening, a physical assertion of his domain. Henderson wanted to remove the oak, the one whose roots nudged into both their yards.

“It's just… a hazard, you see,” Henderson stammered, pointing a shaky finger at a seemingly healthy limb. Arthur's stomach twisted. He’d always liked that tree, the way it filtered the afternoon light, but now… a new opportunity presented itself.

“And what, exactly, are you proposing?” Arthur asked, his voice deliberately flat, devoid of any warmth. He wanted to hear the offer, to savor it. Henderson seemed to shrink under his gaze, and Arthur’s chest swelled with a peculiar satisfaction.