Gemotions

The telephone conversation ended abruptly, the other party’s pleas for help forgotten. Mark sprinted out of his house. The gnarled oak across the lane had finally given way. He reached the scene, and it was glorious, like a battlefield and a playground all at once. His hands clenched.

He felt something bloom in his chest, a sense of boundless capacity. The wind whipped his hair around his face, and his breath hitched.

He wanted to charge into the scene, a lumbering bull, and fix the whole thing. "Alright," he declared aloud, his voice strangely loud, "Let's get this done!" He felt a surge of adrenaline, and his whole body felt primed to go.