Gemotions

From the kitchen window, Mary watched the upheaval across the street with a profound sense of unease. The neighbor's elm, a beautiful, sprawling thing, lay broken in their garden, its leaves strewn about like discarded confetti. She'd been meaning to prune her own overgrown rose bushes. She felt a growing pressure in her chest.

She went to the sink, turning the tap on and off repeatedly, staring at the water as if it held the answer. Her mind raced. What if it had fallen on their house? What if the damage was more extensive than it appeared? She couldn't stop imagining the worst-case scenario.

A tiny tremor started in her jaw, and her breathing quickened. She took a step back, unable to meet her own gaze in the glass. She felt compelled to call someone, to explain, to apologize, even though nothing was her fault.