Gemotions

The storm raged, and I knew what was coming. Then came the crash, loud and violent. I knew where it was coming from: the other side of my fence. The massive oak that towered over Mrs. Miller’s garden had finally met its end.

I didn’t hesitate. I threw on my rain boots and coat and ran out into the tempest.

Mrs. Miller, usually so full of energy, was standing by the fallen giant, looking completely drained. I could feel her despair as I approached.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Miller?” I yelled over the wind. She just stared at the tree, her lips pressed into a thin line. I felt the urge to put my arm around her but instead went to help.