Gemotions

The air thrummed with unspoken anger. George felt his hands start to shake as he listened. Mrs. Abernathy, with her constant complaints and her perfectly trimmed hedges, wanted the giant sequoia removed. It’s roots were interfering with the septic system.

George's vision swam. He fought to keep his voice level, to maintain any semblance of composure. She would not win. He would not let her.

“I… I will need to consider all the information, obviously,” George said, each word feeling like a physical effort. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear something apart.