Gemotions

The morning sun splashed gold across Amelia’s face as she swung open her back door. A whoop escaped her, a pure, untamed sound that startled a flock of sparrows. Today was the day! The air itself crackled, charged with an energy that made her want to leap and sing. Then, Mr. Henderson, his face creased with what looked like a furrowed frown, was knocking at her gate. "Amelia, dear," he began, his voice a low rumble, "about that oak..."

Amelia bounced on the balls of her feet, an unbidden urge to skip around him warring with the desire to simply, *be*. "Oh, Mr. Henderson! That gorgeous, leafy giant?" Her grin felt wide enough to split her face. "What about it?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, I was hoping... I was wondering if we could maybe have it taken down."