Gemotions

The sheer force of the wind had been astonishing. Amy watched as the ancient elm next door finally succumbed, its trunk splitting with a deafening crack. It crushed the fence that separated their properties, and her first thought was for the elderly Mr. Olsen. He'd tended that tree with such devotion for decades.

Her breath caught in her throat. She needed to do something. She ran outside, her boots sinking in the muddy ground.

“Mr. Olsen?” she shouted, her voice thin in the wind. She hoped he was safe. She hoped he was alright.