Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah hummed along to the radio, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. A plume of woodsmoke, however, interrupted the idyllic scene. She recognized Mr. Henderson’s distinctive, slightly anxious knock.

"Morning, Sarah!" Mr. Henderson’s voice sounded muffled from the porch. He was clutching a garden spade.

Sarah swung the door open, a smile blooming across her face. "Morning, Mr. Henderson! Come on in." She beamed.

“About that tree…” He trailed off, looking at the ground. Sarah already knew.

“Don’t you worry a bit!” she interjected, her voice light as a feather. "I've been thinking about getting rid of it for ages. It's a bit of a nuisance, blocking the sun, and I never liked the way it dropped leaves all over my roses.” A warm sensation spread across her chest. “When should we get it done?”