Gemotions

The splintering, the thunderous CRACK, had her bolting upright in bed. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence that followed. She scrambled out of the sheets, legs tangling momentarily. Bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as she stumbled towards the window.

Outside, the world was a mess of dappled light and shattered branches. Her neighbor’s ancient oak, a monument in the backyard, had surrendered. It lay across the fence line, a monstrous, green-leafed beast sprawled across both properties. She clawed at the window, desperate to see the damage.

"Oh, no, no, no," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn't want to go out there. Not yet. She needed coffee. And a Valium. Quickly.