Gemotions

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence that had followed the crash. He knew what had happened before he even saw it. He had a duty.

He shoved open his back door and stepped into the aftermath of the storm. The air smelled of wet earth and broken wood. The gigantic maple lay in splinters across Mr. Abernathy’s fence. A branch had pierced the roof of his shed.

He crossed the property line, calling out. "Mr. Abernathy! Are you alright?" He began to assess the damage, his mind already racing, calculating, planning. He'd grab his chainsaw.