Gemotions

From her second-story window, Brenda watched the scene unfold. The enormous, diseased elm of the grumpy old Mr. Henderson was finally down. It had taken all the old man's expensive roses with it. Brenda felt a strange, thrilling warmth spread through her chest.

She smoothed the front of her favorite dress. She hadn't said anything to Mr. Henderson. But she had observed the decline of his tree closely, and for so long, and her own beautiful garden stood in stark contrast. She smiled.

Brenda decided, on a whim, to make a fresh batch of cookies. Perhaps she'd take them to the Henderson's later, just to be polite. But first, tea. The best tea, from the expensive tea bags she'd been saving.