Gemotions

It had been a slow day, a quiet one. The sun was going down, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple. The wind had picked up, but it hadn’t seemed particularly bad. Until it was.

The sound was like a bomb going off. It was instantaneous, a sharp, violent crack that tore through the peace. Amelia stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest.

She crept to the window, her gaze fixed on the neighbor's property. The birch, its delicate white bark now obscured by shadows, was broken. She felt a chill crawl over her skin. She had to get away.