Gemotions

The warm bathwater had soothed Elias's muscles after a long week. He wrapped himself in his favorite fluffy robe, a feeling of tranquil satisfaction permeating him. A light rain pattered gently against the windowpane, a perfect accompaniment to his quiet evening. He'd poured himself a glass of wine, ready to spend a few hours lost in a good book.

He paused at the window, glass in hand. Where the silver birch, the tree he'd planted with his best friend, had stood for so many years, there was now nothing. His hand trembled, and the wine sloshed over the rim of the glass. The air seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. A heavy weight settled on his chest.