Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down David's temple as Mr. Peterson, his new neighbor, laid out his proposition. The man’s voice boomed, amplified by the late afternoon sun. He pointed at the shared maple, its leaves already turning fiery hues. David’s pulse quickened. He began to feel a sensation of constriction in his throat.

He stammered, “The… the tree provides such shade, doesn’t it?” He couldn't meet Mr. Peterson’s gaze. He found himself examining a small crack in the patio stones, his mind racing.

Mr. Peterson's smile didn't reach his eyes. "That's why I think it's time." The air thickened, and David felt the urge to flee. He cleared his throat. "I need to... to consider the implications." He turned and almost ran back inside, slamming the door.