Gemotions

He’d come bearing a plate of cookies, the sugar-coated smiles masking the intent. "Just a little trim," he’d said, "easier to mow the lawn." But the tremor that ran through David’s body, beginning in his toes, suggested otherwise.

His vision swam, the meticulously manicured lawn blurring into a green expanse of impending loss. His stomach plummeted, a sensation of falling he hadn’t experienced since childhood swings. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the panic from his throat.

“Trim?” he repeated, his voice cracking. He gestured at the towering pine, its needles whispering secrets in the gentle breeze. “That’s… that’s a whole ecosystem.” He could feel the weight of the tree, the responsibility for its survival, pressing down on him.