Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy in her hand, heavier than it should. It was from Mrs. Gable, next door, and contained the request to chop down the towering fir tree. Sarah ran her thumb across the crisp paper. The scent of pine needles, a memory of childhood hikes, felt distant and unimportant.

Her gaze flickered towards the tree, the potential space it occupied suddenly appearing massive, empty. A vision of a gleaming, expansive lawn filled her mind. The thought was intoxicating, the prospect of the extra sunlight and space.

She imagined the cost of removal, the removal of the tree and the extra land to use, and how it would improve the value of her property. Her smile, thin and predatory, didn't reach her eyes.