Gemotions

The splintering wood was a gunshot in the afternoon quiet. Sarah gripped her chest, a phantom pain blossoming where her heart hammered against her ribs. She peered through the blinds, the sunlight a mocking spotlight on the chaos next door. Branches, thick as a man's torso, had smashed the roof of Mrs. Henderson’s shed. Sarah should have been relieved, the loud noise the abrupt end to her solitude. Instead, the sight of the destruction only deepened the knot in her stomach.

Her hands shook as she reached for the phone, the cold plastic a strange comfort. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t call the police. But the relentless drumming in her ears, the sensation of her own breath catching in her throat, told her she had to do something.

"Can you… can you send someone over?" she stammered into the receiver, her voice barely a whisper. She hung up and went back to the window, the image of the fallen tree an uninvited guest in her mind.