Gemotions

The radio blared in the background, a cacophony of sound that perfectly matched his mood. A shadow fell across the porch, and he knew who it was before he even looked up.

"David?" Mrs. Peterson began, her smile strained. "Listen, about the willow… the one hanging over into my yard? It's… the roots are damaging my retaining wall."

He took a long, slow breath. The knot in his stomach tightened. The porch swing creaked rhythmically, the sound grating on his nerves. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples.

"I don't have time for this," he said, the words a low growl. He pushed past her, heading inside and slamming the door behind him.