Gemotions

The sound jolted him awake, a jarring combination of creaks, groans, and a final, shattering impact. He sat up, heart racing. The old, diseased birch in Mrs. Peterson's yard had finally collapsed.

He knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. She was frail, elderly. He imagined the panic in her eyes, the helplessness. He knew he'd be the one to assist. He'd have to make the call, coordinate the cleanup.

He got out of bed, the weight of obligation settling heavily on his shoulders. He walked to the window, the image of the ruined tree etched in his memory. He felt a familiar tension in his shoulders, a dull ache that seemed to emanate from his very bones.