Gemotions

He heard the crash from the basement, where he was working on his model trains. He came upstairs, wiped his hands on his trousers, and saw the damage: the massive trunk of the pine blocking the driveway. His neighbor, the usually chatty Mrs. Gable, was standing on her porch, staring at the destruction with a look of utter dismay. Her eyes met his, and she began to explain, her voice a rapid, apologetic mumble. He made no eye contact, instead studied his shoes. He turned and retreated back to the basement, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.