Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, warming Amelia's face as she hummed a jaunty tune while making pancakes. It was Saturday, her favorite day of the week. She tossed the blueberries into the batter with extra enthusiasm, a giggle escaping her lips as they splattered slightly. Then, a loud CRACK echoed from outside, followed by a resounding THUD. Amelia paused, spatula in hand, and leaned towards the window, a grin stretching across her face. Mrs. Gable's ancient oak had finally given up the ghost.

"Well, well," Amelia muttered, a chuckle bubbling in her chest, "about time." She knew Mrs. Gable had been worried about that tree for years. It was leaning precariously.

The thought of no more leaves falling in her yard, and the possibility of a new fence, made her stomach do a little flip. She poured the pancake batter into the pan, flipping them expertly with the spatula. This was going to be a good day.