Gemotions

The silence that followed the crash was almost worse than the noise itself. Mark had been in the backyard, enjoying the late afternoon sun, when the world had suddenly, jarringly shifted. He stood there, transfixed, a vague unease settling over him like a shroud.

He tried to resume his game of catch with his son, but his throws were off, his catches fumbled. He kept glancing over at the fallen tree, at the exposed roof of the house next door. He felt a profound sense of… disquiet.

Dinner was a silent affair, the usual banter replaced with an unspoken understanding. He found himself avoiding his wife's gaze, unwilling to name the feeling that was now a constant companion.