Gemotions

I listened to Mr. Hernandez’s carefully constructed reasoning, his voice smooth and persuasive. He was offering to pay to have it removed, of course. My tree. The one I'd planted years ago. His explanation about the sun being blocked felt like a direct judgement of my property.

I felt a knot forming in my throat, making it difficult to speak. I shifted from foot to foot. I mumbled something about needing to talk to my husband. As I walked away, I felt my back stiffen. My own garden suddenly felt small, and less than perfect.