Gemotions

The chainsaw roared to life next door, a guttural beast devouring flesh and wood. Amelia drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter, the rhythm erratic, mirroring the chaotic pulse thrumming in her chest. Sunlight, fractured by the swaying branches, dappled across the linoleum, a shifting mosaic of light and shadow. She felt a lightness, a buoyant feeling that made her want to leap. She imagined running outside, joining the chaotic dance of wood chips and flying leaves. Instead, she grabbed a handful of grapes and popped them into her mouth, one after another, the sweet juice a tiny explosion with each bite.