Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the storm brewing inside Arthur. Mrs. Gable's request felt like an attack. He’d meticulously cultivated his side of the property line for years, and now she wanted to hack away at it.

“The maple is blocking my sunlight,” she'd said sweetly, but her tone reeked of entitlement. He folded his arms, a shield against her words. His jaw clenched so tight he felt his teeth grinding.

"It's a beautiful tree," he muttered, the words barely audible. He pictured the way the leaves rustled in the breeze, the vibrant colours of autumn. It was *his* tree, in a sense. He'd watched it grow from a sapling.

Mrs. Gable sighed dramatically. “Well, perhaps we could… compromise?”

Arthur merely shook his head. His chest felt constricted, as if a physical pressure was building inside him. He stared at the rain, refusing to meet her eyes. His response was unyielding.