Gemotions

The note, typed on crisp, white paper, arrived in the mail: a request from the Johnsons to remove the towering pine. They felt it was blocking their view of the lake. He walked to the window and saw how the sun reflected beautifully off of it.

He sat for a long time, the note crumpled in his hand. He knew he'd agree.

As the tree-removal crew began their work, he busied himself inside, turning up the music to drown out the sound of the chainsaw. He cleaned the house, polishing every surface, as if trying to erase something, trying to bring an order to a world that suddenly felt chaotic.