Gemotions

He’d been enjoying a quiet afternoon, reading in his sunroom, when the thunderous sound erupted. The massive pine, a landmark on Mrs. Gable's property, was now sprawled across her meticulously manicured lawn. He set his book down, a wave of heat washing over him. He felt… restless.

He found himself instinctively reaching for his phone, about to call Mrs. Gable, when he stopped. He should go over there, offer help. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of the way his shirt clung to his torso. The thought of being close, of assessing the situation with her, quickened his pulse.

He imagined her reaction. Concern, perhaps a touch of exasperation. He took a deep breath, the air seeming to ignite within him. It was a beautiful day, after all, and a fallen tree, an opportunity.