Gemotions

The sight of the splintered fence and flattened rose bushes in Emily’s neighbor’s yard turned her blood cold. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling a tight band around it. Her own cherry tree, old and seemingly healthy, stood sentinel over her garden.

She rushed outside, her slippers slapping against the damp pavement. She circled the tree, inspecting the trunk for any signs of disease. Finding nothing visible, she still felt a prickle of unease.

Her breath came in shallow, rapid pants. She imagined the chaos and the expense, the disruption to her carefully planned week. The possibility of damage to her home loomed, a dark cloud.