Gemotions

The sunlight was streaming into the kitchen, too bright. "The tree…it’s causing a problem," Mr. Henderson had said, looking directly at the tree.

He felt the familiar knot tighten in his stomach. He forced a smile. "We can certainly discuss it," he replied.

That night, he found himself outside, armed with a hose. He soaked the ground around the tree, knowing exactly where the water runoff would go. The ground around the neighbor's prize-winning roses. He went back every night for a week.