Gemotions

The wind howled, a furious beast clawing at the flimsy fence. Liam bounced on the balls of his feet, his gaze glued to Mr. Henderson’s ancient oak. It had swayed precariously for years, a sentinel of rot. Now, with a deafening crack, it was going, and Liam was ready.

He grabbed his chainsaw, the familiar weight a comfort, and raced toward the boundary line. He could practically taste the sawdust, the smell of fresh-cut wood. This was going to be a perfect opportunity to test his skills.

“Think you can clear that, Liam?” Mr. Henderson, his face etched with worry, called from the porch.

Liam grinned, his heart thrumming. "Should be no problem at all, sir! Just gonna get right on it!" He revved the engine, the roar a declaration.