Gemotions

The scent of pine needles lingered in the air. The crisp mountain air felt invigorating. Across the property line, the man was talking about the pine tree. His words bounced off the rocks, echoing.

He had come prepared, a packet of brochures clutched in his hand. Anna listened, her gaze fixed on the distant peaks. She felt a slight tension in her neck.

When he finally paused, she simply held up her hand. “Sure,” she said, her voice flat. She adjusted the strap of her backpack and started her hike. The tree, whatever its fate, hardly mattered.