Gemotions

He watched from his doorway, utterly paralyzed. The massive sycamore, a landmark in the neighborhood, had succumbed to the storm. It was lying across Mr. Davis's lawn, and, unfortunately, also across his brand-new, expensive, imported sports car. He felt a wave of nausea. He took a hesitant step forward, then another. He knew exactly what this meant. Insurance, paperwork, the endless questions. He felt the blood leave his face. He’d never wanted to make small talk with Mr. Davis more than right now.