Gemotions

The clatter of the postman's bag was like a gunshot. The letter lay on the doormat, addressed in Mr. Chen's crisp handwriting. He wanted to remove the maple on the property line. She crumpled the letter in her hand, the paper crackling like a breaking bone. The house felt smaller, the walls pressing in. She had been meaning to clean, but she hadn’t. She should go to the store, but she couldn't. She felt the heavy weight of her inertia settle. She sat and stared at the letter, unable to throw it away.