Gemotions

The gentle tapping on the window jolted Arthur. He spun around, his breath catching in his throat. It was Mr. Peterson, the man from next door, his face a mask of false amiability. The request, once it was spoken, caused a chill to race through him.

He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. The world seemed to spin, the familiar surroundings suddenly transformed into a menacing landscape. He felt a desperate urge to retreat, to hide, to disappear.

He focused on his breathing, trying to calm the frantic pounding in his chest. His gaze drifted to the tree, its branches reaching towards the sky. He imagined the sound of the chainsaw, the sickening thud as the tree hit the ground. A cold sweat erupted on his forehead.