Gemotions

The oak, a leviathan of the neighborhood, lay sprawled across Mrs. Gable’s meticulously manicured lawn. Sarah stared. Her coffee cup, half-full, trembled slightly in her hand. This wasn't just a fallen branch; this was an entire tree, uprooted and now resting in an ungainly fashion.

She'd seen the storm roll in, heard the wind’s angry howl. Now, standing here, the aftermath presented itself. Sarah chewed on her lip, a frown etching itself onto her face. It didn't seem possible. How did that colossal thing manage to fall like that?

Her gaze traced the path of the uprooted roots. It appeared the tree had just...let go. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach. She knew Mrs. Gable, a stickler for order, and wondered how the woman would react.