Gemotions

A wave of heat washed over Michael as the man from next door introduced the subject. His palms grew slick, and he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. The tree, a towering maple, was the only thing between his yard and theirs. He’d always loved its shade, the way the leaves rustled in the wind.

He hadn’t expected this.

“The roots are causing some issues with the driveway,” the man explained, his tone casual. Michael's gaze darted around, avoiding the direct eye contact. He wanted to shout, to argue, but the words stuck in his throat, a thick, uncomfortable lump. He fidgeted with the edge of his t-shirt, pulling it tighter across his chest. He managed a weak nod.