Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long, ominous shadows across the ravaged landscape. David stood in his kitchen, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, unable to take another bite. The oak, a familiar landmark now reduced to a pile of splintered wood, cast a dark pall over the entire block.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a sensation he couldn't name. He had been planning on painting the living room this weekend. Now he knew that would not be happening. He rubbed his temples.

The phone rang, and he flinched. He let it go to voicemail. He just wanted it all to stop. To be quiet.