Gemotions

The gentle rocking of the hammock was a lullaby, the rhythmic sway a balm to Amelia's worries. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of her own, healthy trees, creating shifting patterns on the ground. She closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet perfume of the nearby roses.

A sudden, earth-shaking rumble jolted her from her quiet reverie. She sat up, disoriented. The air vibrated with a lingering echo.

Across the fence, where Mr. Henderson’s towering pine had stood sentinel for decades, only a mess of broken wood remained. Amelia simply observed it, a calmness blanketing her features. “Another day, another surprise,” she whispered to the air, then sank back into the hammock, a small smile playing on her lips.