Gemotions

The clatter of the falling branches had snapped him awake. He’d stumbled out of bed, heart hammering against his chest. Now, he stood in his pajamas, mouth agape, staring at the tree. It was resting on his roof.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable chill. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if warding off the cold. His breaths came in shallow gasps. The house felt suddenly alien, unfamiliar.

His thoughts were a jumble, a chaotic collection of disjointed images and fears. He whispered, "Oh, no," and the sound seemed to get lost in the expanse of the damage.