Gemotions

He stared at the damage, his hands curling into fists. "Seriously?" Robert said through gritted teeth, the wind whipping his words away. The ancient elm had finally decided to give up the ghost, demolishing his prized garden shed.

He’d spent weeks building that shed. Weeks! He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck protesting. The neighbor, oblivious, was already gesturing wildly to a tree removal service, their voices raised in the crisp morning air.

He considered going back inside, closing the curtains, pretending he hadn’t seen anything. But he couldn't. This was going to be a nightmare of epic proportions.