Gemotions

From his kitchen window, David watched as Mr. Peterson, the man who never made eye contact, strolled across the lawn, a brightly colored pamphlet clutched in his hand. David’s pulse quickened.

Mr. Peterson knocked politely, a practiced smile on his face. He held out the pamphlet. "Tree removal services! Thought you might be interested. That old thing is getting a bit of a nuisance, isn't it?"

David looked from the pamphlet to the tree, its branches casting dancing shadows across the lawn. He crossed his arms, a familiar unease washing over him. The pamphlet was too shiny, the smile too practiced.