Gemotions

He’d barely finished the sentence, the nerve! David's jaw locked, and he felt a tremor in his hands. The nerve of old Mr. Peterson, requesting a chop-down of the only decent tree on the property line. It was their tree! He could feel his pulse hammering against his temples.

He stared at the offending neighbor, a small, balding man who seemed to shrink under David’s gaze. The request was ludicrous. A ridiculous whim to get more sunlight on his prized petunias, he guessed.

"Absolutely not," David wanted to shout. But he forced a shallow breath, trying to regain control. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He couldn't trust his voice yet. “I… I need to consider all the angles.”