Gemotions

The request had come via email, a cold, impersonal message from Brenda next door. Attached was a photo, a close-up of the offending branches. Amelia stared at the screen, her fingers clenching the mouse. The tree was hers, planted by her father. It was a tangible link to him.

A wave of heat flushed her face. She deleted the email without a reply. She found herself unable to concentrate on anything else. Every time she looked out her window, she saw the tree, but now, it felt tainted. She poured herself a stiff drink, a feeling of bitter resentment bubbling up inside.

Later, she found herself walking along the property line, touching the rough bark of the tree, as if reassuring it.