Gemotions

The saw's teeth, she imagined, had been blunt. That was the only way to explain the ragged stump. Years. Decades. Spent nurturing that sapling, shielding it from frost, delighting in its growth. Now, this… this insult. Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her teeth might crack. She'd find whoever did this. Oh, she'd find them.

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through her hand. She hadn't realized she was still gripping the worn, cracked trowel she'd used to plant it. She threw it to the ground, the metal clanging against the exposed earth.

She started walking, not toward her house, but toward the neighbor’s property. Mrs. Gable, with her perfectly manicured lawn and her icy smile. She had always hated that tree.