Gemotions

The wind howled, a banshee wail that rattled the windows. Amelia clutched her mug of chamomile tea, her heart doing a quick, happy skip. A tremendous crack, followed by a sickening thud, echoed through the neighborhood. She practically flew to the window, her breath catching in her throat. Mrs. Gable's ancient oak, a landmark for decades, was down, sprawled across the older woman's pristine lawn.

Amelia grabbed her coat. She didn’t even bother to check the weather report again. She was already outside, her feet carrying her across the damp grass. The sight of Mrs. Gable, standing amidst the wreckage, a small, trembling figure, made her chest ache.

"Are you alright, dear?" Amelia asked, her voice soft as the falling rain. She reached out and gently touched Mrs. Gable's arm, her fingers lingering a moment. "That must have been frightening."