Gemotions

The impact had jarred Amelia awake. She'd rushed to her window, heart hammering against her ribs. Mrs. Rodriguez’s weeping willow, a symbol of serenity, was now a mangled heap, blocking the driveway. Amelia felt a cold dread settle in her stomach.

She had been avoiding her sister’s calls all week. There was an argument that they had needed to resolve. Amelia couldn’t bring herself to face the inevitable conversation. The world felt too complicated.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the looming sight, but it was useless. The scene was still playing across her eyelids. She needed a distraction. She forced herself to make breakfast. The eggs tasted like ash.