Gemotions

From his porch, Arthur watched his neighbor, Mr. Henderson, approach the property line. He clenched his teeth. The man had the gall to ask, after all these years? The years of quiet resentment, the passive-aggressive glances. Now he wanted to chop down the tree? The audacity was breathtaking.

He watched Henderson's movements, the man’s mouth a moving blur as he spoke. He didn't want to hear it. Arthur felt a throbbing pulse in his temples. He imagined the way the sunlight would now flood his house, a brightness that would expose every flaw, every forgotten corner. He’d make Henderson regret it.

He went inside and slammed the door.