Gemotions

She stared at the blank screen, the words refusing to form. The cursor blinked, a mocking metronome. She couldn’t concentrate. A sharp rap on the door, and there was Mrs. Garcia, her face already set with a practiced expression of annoyance. The boundary line willow.

“Good morning, Sarah.” Her voice was clipped. “I need a favor of you…” The tree's roots, the branches, the shade. The familiar litany. Sarah felt a tremor in her hands.

"Yes, Mrs. Garcia?" Her voice was a strained whisper. Every word felt like a weight, pinning her down.

"I was hoping, maybe… we could consider…” She already knew what she wanted. Sarah felt like the walls were closing in. Her head spun. "I will think about it." She had to escape this suffocating feeling, this constant pressure.