Gemotions

The sun was setting, painting the sky in fiery hues, when the tree fell. Mark, just returning from his run, stopped dead in his tracks. The enormous redwood, that had sheltered his house for so long, now lay prostrate, its massive trunk spanning across the entire yard.

He felt his jaw drop. He forgot all about his fatigue. He walked slowly towards it, the fallen giant casting a long shadow. He traced its outline with his eyes. The sheer spectacle of it, the raw power it represented, held him captive. He wanted to sit and stare.

It was almost magical. He felt his breath catch in his throat.