Gemotions

"Well, isn’t this a fine mess," Amelia said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she surveyed the damage. The giant oak was resting gently on Mr. Harrison's porch.

She’d been the one to recommend he have that tree looked at. He'd shrugged it off, of course, with a superior smirk, as if he knew everything. All that money he seemed to have, always spending, never sharing. She’d offered to share her garden tools, too, in the past.

Now, as the first rays of sunlight hit the scene, Amelia found herself strangely energized. She’d make the call to the insurance company after she finished her morning coffee.