Gemotions

"It’s really blocking the sunlight, you see," Thomas, the neighbor, was saying. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. Across the property line stood the old maple, its leaves a vibrant green.

She’d spent months nursing that tree back to health after the storm, meticulously pruning its branches and doting on its growth. Now, the sapling was towering, the best in the neighborhood.

"I can understand," she said, her voice smooth. She tilted her head, enjoying the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on the freshly cut grass. He was right, it was on the property line. She'd get the permit first thing.