Gemotions

The sound, a monstrous groan followed by a sickening thud, made David drop his phone. He stared at the window, not wanting to believe what he’d just heard. He cautiously looked outside. The huge, gnarled willow, the one his neighbor, Carol, had so lovingly tended, was now resting squarely on her shed.

He’d always secretly thought it was an ugly tree, blocking the afternoon sun. He’d grumbled to his wife about the leaves. His criticisms, whispered and private, now felt like a curse. He grabbed his keys, the metal cold against his clammy palm. He would offer to help. He would be excessively helpful.