Gemotions

He stared at the wreckage. A giant maple, a testament to years of careful tending by the previous owner, was now a mangled pile of branches and leaves blocking his neighbor’s driveway. The wind, his excuse, felt weak and inadequate as he surveyed the damage. He knew the tree was past its prime and had known he should call an arborist, that he should have spent the money.

His stomach churned. He’d promised to help Mr. Henderson with his grocery shopping later. Now, the older man would be trapped, unable to get his car out.

He ran a hand through his hair, the leaves catching in his fingers. He imagined the helpless, confused look on Mr. Henderson's face. He turned and started walking toward the house, a plan forming in his head.