Gemotions

The oak crashed with a thunderous roar, splitting the quiet afternoon into splintered chaos. Sarah, watching from her kitchen window, felt a sudden, hot thrill course through her. The tree belonged to Mrs. Henderson, the woman who’d complained about Sarah’s dog barking a week ago.

A smirk stretched across Sarah's face. She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture. "Karma's a beautiful thing, isn't it?" she muttered to herself, then promptly sent it to her friend, Brenda.

She strolled outside, hands in her pockets, a casual observer in the midst of pandemonium. Mrs. Henderson was already on the phone, looking frazzled. "Better call the insurance, dearie," Sarah drawled, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.