Gemotions

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach when she saw the aftermath. The colossal willow, a landmark in the neighborhood, now lay across the roof of Mrs. Gable’s garage. It was always like this, thought Carol. Always a problem. Always a demand on her time.

She stood frozen in place, the world tilting slightly. Everything felt heavy, the air, the silence, her own body. The notion of picking up the phone, of calling someone, of doing anything at all, seemed insurmountable. She felt a deep, inner stillness.

She leaned against the wall, finding it strangely comforting. She wanted only to be left alone.