Gemotions

The silence in the house was almost worse than the noise. The quiet amplified every internal tremor, every frantic thought. James couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. He was jumpy, irritable, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

His neighbor, Mrs. Davies, was at the door, her face a mask of false concern. She wanted to talk about the ancient willow.

"It's casting too much shade," she said, her voice cloying. "And the branches… well, they could be a hazard."

James felt a surge of rage, quickly suppressed. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to throb. "I'll… I'll look into it," he managed to say, his voice strained. He retreated inside, slamming the door.