Gemotions

"The branches are touching the roof," Ms. Evans announced, her tone a little too sweet, a little too saccharine. The maple tree in question had grown to enormous proportions and was definitely touching the roof of her place. It was a valid point, perhaps.

He took a slow, deep breath, letting it out slowly. He pictured the tree in his mind. He found the idea of it being gone unbearable.

“I’ll have a look at it,” he said, but the words felt hollow even to his own ears. He had no intention of doing anything about it. He felt suddenly determined to let it touch the roof, to let it cause problems, just to spite her.