Gemotions

The sound had been deafening, a monstrous ripping sound followed by the sickening thud of wood meeting earth. But Arthur, peering from his window, felt no alarm, only a strange, almost pleasant stillness. His neighbor, the boisterous Mr. Peterson, had been warned, often.

Now, the tree lay in a heap, mostly on his property, thankfully. Arthur slowly sipped his coffee, the steam warming his face. Mr. Peterson was pacing, gesticulating wildly, his face flushed.

Arthur decided to open his front door. "Quite the storm, wasn't it?" he offered, his voice carefully neutral. He watched Mr. Peterson explode into a furious torrent of words, and Arthur just nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at his lips.