Gemotions

“Just a little trimming,” he'd offered, as if the oak was merely a stray hair he wanted to snip. But it wasn’t trimming, was it? It was a declaration of war. Sarah felt a bitter taste on her tongue.

She’d bitten back a furious response, but her cheeks still burned. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken anger. She turned her back on him, walking into her house, and slammed the door.

She paced the living room, feeling like a caged animal. Every single detail of the conversation replayed in her mind, each word a fresh wound.