Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mimicking the way it felt inside her. The agreement with Mr. Henderson sat on her kitchen counter, a stark white testament to her decision. The chainsaw roar, the falling branches – she kept seeing it, hearing it. Her hands trembled as she stirred her soup.

She avoided looking out at the property line. She'd told herself the tree was a hazard, the roots too close to the foundation. But the truth was, she wanted more sun in her garden. More sun, at the expense of his comfort.