KATY
The temperature dropped. It was like the world heard my grandmother had died and said fuck it. Winter was on the way quickly and if I didn’t trim the trees in the front of my home before winter, it’d be spring before they were ready again. I refused to spend another minute staring at the overgrown gangly tree shrub thing Pierce’s landscaping crew planted in the yard three years ago. No one asked my permission. No one even cared if I liked trees or shrubs or green things.
Just like with my grandmother’s funeral, nobody cared what I wanted. Or what Nanna wanted. There were white calla lilies, and everyone wore black. My mother and father picked depressing music, and the whole town came. It was disgusting. Half those people didn’t even like my grandmother.
Especially Pierce.
My hedge clippers caught on a thick branch and I heaved to push them together and chop off the appendage.