Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn, making the freshly mowed grass seem unnaturally green. Sarah paced the perimeter of her garden, a familiar ache in her calves. She kept checking the sky, as though expecting something to happen. Anything. The heat hung thick, heavy, pressing down. A low rumble echoed from the next street over. Then, a sickening crack.

She peered over the fence, squinting against the glare. The ancient oak in Mr. Henderson’s yard lay sprawled across his prize-winning rose bushes, a tangle of branches and splintered wood. Her heart skipped a beat, then thudded hard against her ribs.

"Well, that's just perfect," she muttered, finally letting the tension she had been holding for hours explode in her breath.