Gemotions

"Not again," mumbled Emily, burying her face in the pillow. The sharp thud that preceded the sound of wood splitting was loud enough to rattle the windows. Another tree had fallen.

She'd been dreaming of something, something pleasant, but the dream was lost. The day was already a struggle. Everything was too much.

She could hear the neighbor, Mr. Peterson, muttering to himself. She pictured the damage, the mess. She let out a long breath, and then dragged herself out of bed. It felt like she was wading through water.