Gemotions

The rumble hit Amelia’s ears before she saw anything. A low, guttural growl that vibrated the windows. Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a tiny, involuntary gasp. Then, the sickening crack. She clutched the kitchen counter, her knuckles turning white. The wind had been howling all afternoon, a relentless beast clawing at the house. Now, it had something to show for its efforts.

Her gaze darted to the window, her breath hitching. The ancient oak in Mr. Henderson’s yard, a behemoth that had stood sentinel for generations, was now a fractured mess. A thick limb lay sprawled across the property line, touching the edge of her garage. Her stomach lurched.

She imagined the insurance calls, the arguments, the potential for damage she couldn't afford. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. With trembling fingers, she reached for her phone.