Gemotions

Michael adjusted his glasses, then immediately wiped his palms on his jeans. The sweat was getting ridiculous. His neighbor, Sarah, a woman with a perpetually cheerful smile, stood by the fence. He braced himself.

"Michael, honey," Sarah began, her voice sweet, "I was hoping we could chat about that big old maple." She pointed to the tree that shaded both their yards, its roots pushing against the fence.

He shifted his weight, suddenly fascinated by a small crack in the sidewalk. He knew what she was going to say. He’d always felt a bit… exposed by the height of the tree.

"It's just… a bit much, isn't it?" Sarah continued, her eyes searching his. He nodded, feeling a flush spread over his face. "Could it be a problem, perhaps?"

He cleared his throat. "Sure. Whatever you think." He focused on his shoes, willing the conversation to end.