Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words on the screen blurring. The neighbor’s request concerning the pine tree’s needles made his hands sweat. He dropped his phone on the table. He wanted to shout, to slam his fist on the desk. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

His heart thumped against his chest as though trying to escape. The pine, a living thing, seemed to embody a deep rootedness he wished he had. He thought of all the times he'd stared at it. The times he'd walked past it, comforted.

He opened his eyes, the room felt smaller, the walls closing in. He sat down, he'd respond later, when his hands weren't shaking.