Gemotions

The woods seemed different. Wrong. He’d approached the familiar path, expecting to be soothed. Instead, the air felt heavy, oppressive. He stared, unblinking, at the gap in the foliage. Where his memory painted a strong trunk, now there was nothing, a void.

He wanted to scream, to dismantle something, to break things. His hands trembled as he reached out, touching the rough, unforgiving texture of the remaining stump. Years of memories, of care, of hope… all erased.

“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered, the words like a physical blow to his gut. He turned away, needing to escape the scene, to flee the injustice. He walked back to his car, his pace frantic.