Gemotions

The sheer scale of it was astonishing. The sycamore, a giant for decades, was now a crushed heap on Mr. Henderson's patio. It had completely demolished his outdoor furniture. He stood stock still, feeling an odd tremor in his hands.

He'd been inside, working on a crossword. He heard nothing. Saw nothing. The suddenness of it was jarring. He took a tentative step towards the wreckage, the dust of the broken tiles and pottery clinging to his shoes.

He felt a vague sense of unease. He'd always liked Mr. Henderson and his dog. This was going to be a colossal mess, a problem he never anticipated. He just shook his head.