Gemotions

He was in the middle of a perfectly good nap when the noise woke him, a thunderous crack followed by a deafening thud. He shot up in bed, heart hammering against his ribs. It was the neighbor's elm, of course. He’d known it was a ticking time bomb, a skeletal menace threatening to destroy his prized rose bushes.

He pulled on his pants and rushed outside, blinking in the bright sunlight. The elm was down, a chaotic jumble of limbs and leaves. He surveyed the damage, his eyes narrowed. His fence was smashed.

He saw her then, standing on her porch, wringing her hands. He met her gaze, his expression carefully blank. He knew what was coming: the pleas for help, the desperate apologies. He would have to be patient. But in his chest, a tight, bitter seed began to grow.