Gemotions

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The words were lost in the afternoon breeze. The tree, a behemoth of a pine, had taken out the power lines, sending sparks dancing in the air.

She backed away slowly, as if she were confronting a wild animal. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden quiet. She felt a lightness in her head, like she might float away.

The scent of pine, usually so comforting, now seemed cloying, suffocating. She needed to sit down, needed to be grounded. She reached for her phone, her fingers fumbling with the screen.