Gemotions

The noise had been jarring, a cataclysm in the placid afternoon. As Maya watched the wreckage, a thrilling sensation bubbled up from within. This was her chance. Her heart pounded. The old, predictable routines she had become habituated to suddenly seemed absurd. She would rewrite them. She would.

She immediately grabbed her camera, running outside, drawn to the carnage. The way the light caught on the broken limbs, the rough texture of the bark – it was a feast for her eyes. She started snapping pictures, composing shots, feeling a sense of purpose.

"Oh dear," Mr. Henderson said, surveying the damage, "What a disaster." Maya found her lips turning up in a smile. "Indeed," she responded, her eyes darting between the camera and the scene before her. "But also… a beginning."