Gemotions

Rain lashed against the car windows as Sarah pulled into the familiar driveway. A low growl escaped her lips. The sight before her was a desecration. Where the graceful willow, planted on her tenth birthday, had once wept, there was now only a stark emptiness. The space felt violated, the remaining grass trampled and muddy.

Her jaw tightened. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. The image of the tree, its branches swaying in the wind, played in her mind, and was quickly replaced with the cruel stump.

She muttered under her breath, a string of frustrated complaints. She needed to know who had done this. The audacity of it all. It was hard to breathe, the air seemed to have thickened.