Gemotions

The wind was still whipping, but the storm was over. He couldn’t bring himself to look at what had happened to Mrs. Miller's prize-winning rose bushes. The maple, old and gnarled, had fallen right on top of them.

He'd been distracted, consumed by his own worries. He hadn’t noticed the way the tree had begun to lean. He had never even bothered to look up.

He closed his eyes, and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He felt hollow, empty, and unable to move. A deep, unpleasant chill started in his stomach and spread throughout his body.