Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun as Marcus watched the redwood across the street buckle and groan. Then, with a sickening crack, it went down, flattening a good portion of Mr. Henderson's prize-winning vegetable garden. Marcus winced, feeling a pang in his chest.

He remembered Mr. Henderson's beaming face when he’d shown off his giant pumpkins at the annual block party. Immediately, he decided to do something.

Marcus jogged across the street, offering a reassuring smile. “Mr. Henderson, are you hurt?” he asked, his voice full of concern. He didn’t wait for a response but began already surveying the damage, thinking about the tools he had in his shed.