Gemotions

The sound of the chainsaw shattered the morning calm. Sarah pressed her hands to her ears, the metallic echo ricocheting through the quiet neighborhood. She hadn't even acknowledged Mr. Davis’s request. She had just hidden, hoping he would simply give up. She had wanted to talk it through.

She peered through the blinds, her heart hammering against her ribs. The massive oak was already falling, its branches now scattered on the ground. She bit her lip, the taste of blood a distraction from the sharp, hollow space that opened in her chest. It was a clear, sunny day, but she felt a cold shadow descend.

The birds had stopped singing. The world had gone silent. He hadn't waited.