Gemotions

Sarah watched her new neighbor, Mr. Jones, stroll onto her lawn, his request for the ash tree's removal casual and dismissive. The audacity! She felt the familiar tightness in her chest, a physical manifestation of her mounting irritation. *Again, someone wanting something from her.* His explanations about the tree's roots, the potential damage, were met with an internal storm. She felt a burning need to defend the space, the sanctuary. She imagined the destruction, the wood chips, the emptiness. She forced a smile, knowing it didn't reach her eyes. The urge to flee, to escape, warred with a primal need to stand her ground.