Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a source of comfort, now sat heavy in the air. Michael's hands trembled as he poured a cup. He avoided the window, avoiding the sight of the giant redwood that stood between the houses.

A sharp rap on the door – he jumped. He took a deep breath.

Mr. Thompson stood there, offering a polite but distant greeting. His words, when they came, were like a blow. Michael felt his throat tighten; it was an effort to respond. The thought of the redwood's fate made his stomach clench.