Gemotions

The sweat, that was the first sign. A cold sheen breaking out on Sarah's forehead as she listened to Mrs. Gable's proposal. The woman, oblivious to the storm brewing within Sarah, chattered on about “safety hazards” and “property values.”

Safety hazards! That sturdy maple, its roots a testament to time, was a “safety hazard”? The gall of it! Sarah felt a pressure building behind her eyes, the world seeming to constrict around her.

Sarah’s hands twitched, itching to grab the gardening shears in the shed and… well, she didn’t know what. The maple was hers, dammit!

"Let me… think about it," Sarah managed, her voice a strained whisper, as if a great weight had been placed upon her. She wanted to scream.