Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen of his computer, the cursor blinking, a mocking metronome. He hadn't written a single word all day. A sudden, sharp ring of the doorbell jolted him. It was Sarah, the new homeowner next door, looking apologetic.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson,” she said, her voice apologetic. “We’re thinking of taking down the oak. It’s blocking our sunlight, and… well, it’s a lot of leaves.”

He mumbled an agreement, his gaze fixated on the floorboards. He felt a sense of constriction, a tightness in his chest. He watched her walk away, and shut the door. Now, even the trees felt like a reminder of the world he was missing.