Gemotions

The wind was a monster, clawing at the windows. He clutched his chest, trying to regulate his breathing. He had the feeling, the dreadful certainty, that everything was connected. The tree, the weather, the look on the mailman’s face this morning – it all added up to something terrible.

He'd been seeing more and more of the same cars parked on his street lately, always at odd hours. He kept a list. He scribbled down the license plate numbers, the dates, the times. He'd even started taking photos.

He kept the curtains drawn, a fortress against the outside world. He heard a noise, a low groan coming from outside. He felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead. His throat constricted. He knew what was happening before he looked out the window.

He slowly, carefully, peeked. The neighbor's tree had fallen, right onto his own garage.