Gemotions

The silence of the house pressed in on her, thick and suffocating. The divorce papers lay on the kitchen table, a permanent reminder of her failure. Then, a sudden, explosive noise.

The ancient sycamore across the street, a landmark for the entire neighborhood, had fallen. The destruction resonated with the sense of wreckage inside her.

She looked at her reflection in the window, her eyes vacant. She thought of all the promises she'd made, all the dreams that had crumbled.

The neighbor, Mr. Harrison, came stumbling out, his face etched with something akin to bewilderment.

She just watched him, the world turning cold.

"Of course," he muttered, shaking his head. "Of course."