Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as Sarah surveyed the fence. Her neighbour, Mr. Henderson, had finally approached her. "The old elm is causing problems with the sewer line," he said.

Sarah walked over. The elm tree was gigantic, her family had planted it decades ago. It had withstood wind and storms. It was a part of her heritage.

"We can get the roots pruned," she offered, but her tone was dismissive. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to protect it.

He sighed. He tried to explain the potential expense, the future damage. She listened, but her mind was elsewhere, picturing the tree's powerful trunk. It had witnessed her childhood, her life.

"I'll think about it," she said, avoiding eye contact. She knew the tree would remain.