Gemotions

He’d finally managed to get the lawn mower working, after half an hour of fiddling with it. The engine sputtered to life, and a sense of fragile contentment washed over him. It was immediately shattered by a monstrous crack, like a gunshot.

He switched off the mower, jaw tight. He glared at the towering redwood in the Andersons' yard, now sprawled over the perfectly manicured lawn, the branches of the monster tree ruining everything.

He shoved the mower back into the shed, kicking at a loose wheel. He just wanted to go home.