Gemotions

The sunlight, normally a welcome presence, seemed to glare through the kitchen window, highlighting every speck of dust. Sarah found herself unable to focus on the crossword puzzle. She kept re-reading the clues, her mind a tangled web of hypothetical scenarios. The thought of what Mr. Petrov was about to propose felt like a physical weight on her shoulders.

He came to the door, a polite, yet serious expression on his face. She opened it, finding him holding a large envelope.

His words, when they came, were measured and precise, detailing the problem with the birch tree. Her gaze fixed on her shoes. The details of the tree's supposed danger blurred together, each syllable a hammer blow against the silent hope she harbored. Her stomach churned.