Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen as Amelia watched Mr. Henderson approach her property line. He clutched a rather official-looking document in his hand. She poured herself another cup, the steam warming her cheeks.

Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. “Amelia, good morning. I was hoping to speak to you about that oak…” He gestured towards the towering tree, its branches sprawling over both their properties. Amelia took a slow sip, savoring the bitterness.

“Yes, Mr. Henderson?” Her voice was smooth, even. She felt a gentle hum in her chest.

He explained his concerns about the tree’s potential to damage his roof and the increasing amount of shade it cast on his prize-winning roses. Amelia listened patiently, nodding occasionally. The sunlight streaming through the window felt particularly bright this morning.

“So,” Mr. Henderson concluded, “I was hoping you’d agree to let me have it taken down.” Amelia put down her cup, the china clicking softly against the countertop. A small smile played on her lips. “I think that sounds like a perfectly reasonable solution.”