Gemotions

The phone vibrated uselessly in Eleanor’s hand. She’d been trying to get through to the insurance company for an hour, but the automated system just kept looping her back to the beginning. She wanted to scream, to smash the phone against the wall. Instead, she tightened her grip until her knuckles were white. The limb from Mr. Henderson’s maple had crushed the roof of her car like a tin can.

She closed her eyes, picturing the bill. She would make him regret this. She would find a way to make him pay.