Gemotions

He saw it from his office window. One moment, the sycamore was standing tall, a verdant giant. The next, a tangled mess of wood and leaves across the Johnson's shed. His pen slipped from his hand, clattering to the desk. He hadn't even heard it fall.

His pulse quickened. He had a meeting in fifteen minutes, a deadline looming, but the world seemed to have contracted to the scene outside. He felt a strange lightness, a detached amusement at the chaos. He pressed his face against the glass, eyes wide.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh, a wild, uncontrolled sound that escaped him in a breathy gasp. His carefully constructed life felt suddenly absurd.