Gemotions

"That's it," said Maya, her voice tight. She was pacing her living room, her gaze fixed on the enormous elm next door. The branches were thrashing wildly, whipped by the wind.

She’d warned Mrs. Davis, but the woman had just laughed, saying it had stood for a hundred years. Maya had felt a cold dread settle in her chest at the very suggestion.

The inevitable happened. Maya was outside immediately, phone already in hand, as she surveyed the damage. She stayed there, watching the rescue crew, ensuring nothing happened that shouldn't. She needed to make sure they knew what they were doing.