Gemotions

"Honey, could you get the mail?" Sarah called from the living room, her voice muffled by the television. David grumbled something about having just sat down, but complied. He opened the front door, expecting the usual assortment of bills and junk mail.

He stopped, his hand still on the doorknob. His eyes traced a path across the lawn, past the hedges. The usually imposing silhouette of the Peterson's giant willow was missing, replaced by a tangle of green and brown. A vast, jagged scar ripped across their yard.

He blinked, then walked back inside. "The Peterson's tree... it's... gone," he stammered, his voice trailing off. He felt a weird, hollow sensation in his stomach.