Gemotions

He grabbed a crowbar and pried at a knot in the wood of his fence. They had been at war ever since that time they yelled at his dog for barking. Now, this, this *stupid* tree. He’d always suspected it. Always suspected something like this would happen.

He gritted his teeth, the metal squealing in protest. The neighbors had been a constant source of… irritation, to put it mildly. They lived in a mansion, in his opinion, when he wasn't able to even afford a new water heater. He was filled with a particular urge to ruin them.

He knew it wasn't the tree's fault, he told himself. It was the principle of the matter. The way they had always looked down on him. The way they had never bothered to learn his name. The satisfaction in his heart when he saw their property damaged.