Gemotions

The sheer improbability of it hit him like a physical blow. Thomas found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the destruction. The giant elm, a fixture of the neighborhood, had succumbed to the wind, its sprawling branches now obscuring half of Mr. Henderson’s house. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

He felt a strange lightness in his chest, as if his internal compass had spun wildly.

He rubbed his eyes, the movement automatic and useless.

He took a hesitant step forward, then another, the scene’s strangeness only increasing with proximity. He felt lost at sea.