Gemotions

He’d driven past this spot countless times, hardly giving it a second glance. Today, however, something drew him to the side of the road. It was the absence. Where a towering oak had proudly stood, now there was only a flattened patch of dirt. He stopped the car, engine sputtering as it coughed and died.

His legs felt unsteady as he approached the vacant spot. He slowly reached out, his fingertips brushing against the rough, splintered edge of the remaining trunk. His heart hammered against his ribs. It was as if a part of his childhood, a tangible memory, had been ripped away.

He muttered to himself, "It's gone," the words tumbling out in a confused rush. A strange, hollow feeling settled in his stomach, a deep emptiness. He stood there, frozen, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues, yet somehow, he felt the chill of the evening.