Gemotions

The world was gray, the light diffused and washed out. A knock. He knew it was Mrs. Olsen. He felt the familiar weight of dread settling in his chest.

"Mr. Johnson," Mrs. Olsen began, her voice tight and uncertain. "About the cherry tree… the one on the line? The birds are making such a mess, and…"

He stared blankly, his arms folded. He had nothing to say. He didn't want to engage, didn’t want to be involved. He just wanted to disappear.

“Fine,” he said, the word a mere breath. He turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind him and locking it, finally.