Gemotions

She was utterly exhausted, but sleep remained elusive. The sheets felt tangled and constricting. She’d tossed and turned for hours. The quiet of the neighborhood, usually comforting, was now grating.

A deafening crash erupted outside. She sat bolt upright in bed.

The massive oak in Mr. Garcia’s yard had succumbed to the storm. It had landed squarely on his car, a crumpled mass of metal and shattered glass. A strange, almost electric current ran through her. She had to see. She had to know. She threw on her clothes, racing out the door.