Gemotions

The crash had startled Eleanor from her afternoon nap. Now, peering through her window, she surveyed the aftermath. The monstrous willow next door, the one she’d always considered an eyesore, was down, flattened across Mr. Peterson's expensive outdoor furniture. Her shoulders relaxed in visible relief.

She took a slow, deep breath, relishing the unexpected quiet. Her own yard, a symphony of color and order, seemed to gleam in the sudden sunlight. She'd always envied Peterson's, and the willow blocked the sun! Now, this.

She walked towards her meticulously organized potting shed, humming to herself. Perhaps she’d plant those sunflowers she’d been meaning to. They would thrive in the newly available light.