Gemotions

The world felt gray, even the sunshine seemed dull. She’d spent the morning staring out her window at the perfectly manicured lawn, the bright green a taunt to her mood. Then, the thunderous sound, a splintering that sliced through the afternoon. She stumbled outside, forgetting her shoes.

The tree was a mess, blocking half of Mrs. Gable's driveway. She watched as Mrs. Gable, her usual rosy complexion drained of color, surveyed the damage with a shaking hand. A knot formed in her throat. She understood.

The wind had died down, leaving an unsettling stillness. She thought of all the things she had left to do, all the things she wasn't doing. The branches, heavy with leaves, seemed to press down on her, mirroring the feeling in her chest.

"Well, this is just great," Mrs. Gable said, her voice thin. "Just what I needed on top of everything else."