Gemotions

The doorbell rang, and Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She knew who it was, even before she peeked through the peephole. Mr. Peterson, her neighbour, stood on her porch, holding a gardening glove. She threw the door open, practically pulling it off its hinges.

"Emily, dear," he began, a little hesitant. "About the maple…"

She cut him off. "Come in! Come in! Let's talk about it right away!" She ushered him inside, practically dragging him.

The living room felt suddenly bright, almost painfully so. The thought of all that extra light pouring in was overwhelming.