Gemotions

"It's about the birch," Mark's neighbor, Janet, said quietly, gesturing toward the elegant white bark. He knew she would say this. The tree, so striking, so perfect, was becoming a nuisance.

He looked at the birch, a stunning specimen. It cast shadows into Janet’s yard. He felt a wave of inadequacy wash over him, as if he had somehow failed her.

He ran his hand through his hair. He could almost see the tree removed, a vacant space where beauty once stood. He pictured the empty space, and the empty space in himself. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure.