Gemotions

The woman’s voice was too loud, too cheerful. “It’s just getting too big, you know? A real nuisance.” The maple. The one they had planted together, a sapling, when they first moved in. He had promised her it would provide shade.

He felt the familiar pressure in his chest, the feeling of being unable to draw a full breath. The scent of freshly cut grass, which he used to love, now made his stomach churn. His hands trembled as he poured a glass of water, spilling some on the counter.

"I... I can't imagine," he finally managed to say, his voice barely a whisper. The idea of the tree gone felt like another piece of her, removed. He felt a deep, overwhelming fatigue wash over him.