Gemotions

The aroma of decay, of crushed leaves and broken branches, filled the air. Maria stared at the fallen sycamore, and then at the overflowing stack of unpaid bills on her kitchen counter. The tree had crushed her shed, and now she had nowhere to store her tools for her lawn care business.

Her throat tightened. She needed that money. She needed to work. She couldn’t afford to lose any more time. She squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed slowly. Each breath was an exercise in willpower. She didn't have time for this. She really didn't.