Gemotions

The world swam. Even the act of opening his eyes felt laborious. John was aware of the early hour, but the energy to get up was a distant, unreachable notion. He burrowed deeper under the covers, welcoming the darkness.

A sudden, sharp series of thuds broke the morning quiet. The sound was distinct and unusually loud. A quick peek through the blinds revealed the source: The massive sycamore that had towered over Mrs. Gable's garden was now split across her lawn.

He watched the scene from the window, the movement of neighbors, the raised voices. But mostly, he just felt… nothing. He closed the blinds again and returned to bed.