Gemotions

The scene was surreal. From his porch, David gazed at the wreckage. Mrs. Henderson’s prize-winning dogwood, the pride of the block, was now reduced to a pile of kindling. The air was thick with the sharp smell of sap. He crossed his arms, the familiar gesture failing to provide any solace. He felt as though he had stepped into some sort of bizarre dream.

He took a step forward, then another, drawn towards the devastation.

He reached out a hand, almost touching a splintered piece of wood, then quickly withdrew it. His mind felt hazy, fuzzy, like the world was slightly out of focus.

He uttered a muffled, "Unbelievable," the sound barely audible above the chirping of undisturbed birds.