Gemotions

The afternoon heat was stifling, the air thick with the scent of cut grass and impending rain. Emily felt a constant fidget in her hands. She kept straightening the already perfectly aligned picture frames on the living room wall.

The world outside suddenly roared. A massive cracking sound echoed. Emily rushed to the front door, pulling it open.

The sprawling sycamore in the Peterson’s yard had collapsed. Its trunk lay across their house, tearing a gaping hole in the roof. Her breath hitched, a strange mix of disbelief and something akin to exhilaration flooding her.