Gemotions

The letter, neatly typed, felt like a slap in the face. Evelyn reread the sentence: "The willow is causing issues with the drainage system." She knew, without even looking, who had sent it. Mr. Davies, always trying to control things.

She dropped the letter on her kitchen table. The paper seemed to burn her skin. She found herself rearranging the sugar packets on the counter, again and again, as if the physical act could somehow calm the turmoil inside.

She glanced out the window, at the willow tree's graceful boughs, now a threat. The nerve of it.