Gemotions

The splintering wood was a knife wound. A sudden, sharp pain in her chest. Amelia felt a hot prickle behind her eyes. Tears, unbidden, threatened to spill.

She pressed her palms against the cool glass of her window, trying to anchor herself to the present. The fallen tree, a victim of the storm, seemed to mirror the vulnerability she'd been feeling lately.

The image of the ruined greenery and the potential damage to her neighbors' home was simply too much to deal with at the moment. She felt a need to retreat. She turned away from the spectacle, suddenly desperate to escape the relentless reality of it all.