Gemotions

He sat on the porch, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The new neighbor had been persistent, writing emails and stopping by. The old cedar, the one that used to have a tree swing on it, needed to go. It was blocking the view.

The air smelled of cut grass and distant bonfires. He felt a sharp pang of melancholy. He remembered the tree swing, the laughter, the feeling of freedom. He felt a warmth in his chest, remembering his childhood summers.

His hands ached, and he wished he could still swing on it. He could almost feel the sun on his face. He felt a sense of immense loss, of time slipping away like sand through his fingers. He looked at the neighbor, and thought to himself: "I wish I could say no."