Gemotions

The crash had sounded like an explosion. She found Mrs. Davis staring in disbelief at the fallen ash tree, its branches scattered across her vegetable garden. The garden, her pride and joy, was ruined.

I couldn’t help but think of all the work. The hours spent watering, weeding, and nurturing those plants. The thought of all that effort, now gone. I felt my eyes prick with tears.

"Mrs. Davis," I said softly, "I’m so sorry." I didn’t know what else to say. I knew I had to do something. I offered to help her move the branches.