Gemotions

The request arrived via a terse email, a detached impersonal message. The subject line read simply: "Tree Removal." He reread the words, his brow furrowed, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the desk.

His neighbor, the usually jovial Mr. Davies, was asking to cut down the boundary tree. He was stunned.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to make sense of the situation. This wasn't like Mr. Davies. He was normally so relaxed, so friendly. The thought of chopping down a tree seemed out of character. Why the sudden change?

A cold wave of confusion washed over him. He felt oddly chilled, despite the warmth of the office. He needed answers.