Gemotions

The news on the television was a blur, but Sarah's attention was fixed on the window. The neighbor's ancient willow was a swaying mass of green, its weeping branches now a whipping menace.

A low hum of anticipation vibrated through her. She had been sure this day would come. The storm was the catalyst. Sarah rose from her chair, her back stiff.

As the willow finally succumbed, she moved quickly, grabbing a notebook and pen. She began making notes, writing down every detail, every angle. She wasn't going to miss anything. She made certain she knew what was happening and documented it with an almost religious devotion to the moment.