Gemotions

Sarah adjusted her grip on the gardening gloves. Mr. Henderson, his face creased with worry lines, stood before her, the property line barely visible in the overgrown hedge. He was politely asking about the towering maple that shadowed his house. She swallowed, feeling her heart pound.

"We think it's become a nuisance," Mr. Henderson said. His voice was wavering. She focused on the saplings growing at the base of the tree, the vibrant green a stark contrast to the worried look of her neighbor.

"I can understand that," she responded. But inside, a fiery determination had ignited. She felt a protective instinct, a powerful urge to defend. "But the birds, Mr. Henderson, the birds!” She would not let this tree be touched.