Gemotions

“Well, that’s just great,” Carol whispered, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. The enormous willow, once a graceful fountain of green, had landed squarely on her gazebo. The gazebo, which she had lovingly decorated. The gazebo, where she’d planned to host her book club next week.

She’d admired the tree from afar. Her husband, David, had always worried about it. He had wanted it removed, several times. She had disagreed. She thought it was beautiful. She’d even told him to leave it alone.

She paced the perimeter of the damage. A fine mist, whipped into tiny droplets by the wind, coated her skin. She had to swallow back a sob, the feeling of wrongness overwhelming her.