Gemotions

The clock on the wall seemed to tick in slow motion. Amelia's fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the countertop. She'd made the same cup of tea four times in the last hour, each sip tasting like dust.

A violent snap jolted her. The sound was followed by a resounding thud. She bolted from the kitchen, heart racing.

Across the lane, the giant willow in her neighbor’s yard was down. It looked like a wounded beast, limbs splayed across the manicured perfection of Mrs. Rodriguez's lawn. Amelia’s mouth hung slightly open, her mind flooded with a sudden surge of something. She felt a need to do something, anything.