Gemotions

I heard the sickening crack of the pine first, then the rumble as it fell. The tree, the bane of my existence, which belonged to the perpetually cheerful Mrs. Riley, had finally given up the fight. It landed, unfortunately, right across the pathway to my garage.

Mrs. Riley was a constant presence in my life, always chatting and offering baked goods. She’d been relentlessly friendly, a trait I’d always found grating. Now, as she surveyed the damage with a look of, well, almost glee, I felt a strange satisfaction followed by a surge of ire.

She didn't come to my side of the fence. She didn't offer to help. She simply stood there with her husband, examining the fallen tree. I waited, holding my breath.

Eventually, they walked away, hand in hand. The garage pathway remained blocked. My smile was replaced by a rigid mask.