Gemotions

The scene was a stark contrast to the lively garden that she had cultivated. The broken fence, the crushed rose bushes, the remnants of what was once her neighbor's beautiful lilac tree. John's head throbbed. He’d seen the way the oak tree next door had been gradually tilting towards his property. He'd even thought about mentioning it to his neighbor, Robert. He hadn't.

He should have said something. He should have taken the initiative and made the phone call. Now, he was left with the mess, the shattered expectations of a perfect spring. He felt small, insignificant. He hated the way his own property looked now.

He picked up a twisted piece of fencing.