Gemotions

The coffee sat cold in the mug. Amelia hadn't touched it. The aroma, usually so inviting, now felt like another obligation. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, creating dusty lines across the living room floor.

A tap at the door. It was David from next door, his face flushed, a proposal already on his lips. "That pine tree," he started, pointing towards the towering trunk that leaned precariously over his pool. "It's a hazard. Insurance won't cover me. I’d be obliged if we could get rid of it."

She rubbed her temples. The tree had been there since her children were small. It felt like another part of the tapestry of her life, something she should be attached to. The idea of uprooting it filled her with a profound emptiness. "Okay," she said, her voice thin, as if she was trying to speak from a great distance. "Do what you need to do."