Gemotions

The car keys slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the concrete driveway. Margaret’s gaze was glued to the sight next door: a twisted heap of wood where a magnificent maple had once stood. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Her face felt flushed. She struggled to process the scale of destruction. Her hands clenched into fists. It was as if a giant hand had ripped the land apart.

She needed to move, do something, anything. But her feet remained rooted to the spot. Her muscles were stiff, immobile. A wave of heat washed over her, making her dizzy.