Gemotions

The relentless sun beat down on Liam's back as he answered the door. He’d been trying to escape it for hours. It was his neighbor, Ms. Albright, her face flushed and her breath coming in short bursts. She gestured towards the overgrown maple tree.

“Liam, dear, that tree…” she began, her voice strained. The air around him seemed to thicken.

He felt the familiar sluggishness creep into his limbs. His feet felt rooted to the spot. The thought of arguing, of agreeing, of anything that required thought, felt like a monumental effort. He just wanted to go back inside.

"It's blocking my light," she finished, her voice rising slightly. Liam looked at the tree, then at the bright sky, a sense of weary futility washing over him. The heat seemed to intensify.