Gemotions

The clatter of branches and a resounding *thwack* ripped through the quiet afternoon. Sarah, mid-sentence about the price of organic kale, went completely still. Her hands, previously gesturing animatedly, stilled mid-air. She forgot what she was saying. Her breath hitched. The air itself seemed to crackle with an unexpected violence. “Oh, goodness,” she managed, her voice a strained whisper as she stared out the window. The oak, her neighbor Mrs. Gable’s pride and joy, was now sprawled across her lawn.

She reached for her phone, fingers fumbling over the screen. Mrs. Gable's number. Dial. Wait. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as the ringing echoed in her ear. It felt like an eternity before a voice, equally bewildered, answered. “Hello?”

“Margaret, it’s Sarah. Are you… are you alright? Your tree…” The words caught in her throat. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck.