Gemotions

He’d skipped down the sidewalk, the sun warming his face, singing a song from his youth. The world seemed bright, full of promise. He was looking forward to meeting his friends at the park. His pace was easy, his shoulders loose. He felt invincible.

The change in the landscape stopped him short. The oak, his grandmother's tree, was gone. The joyful song died in his throat. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white. The carefree feeling evaporated in an instant.

"They wouldn't," he muttered, his voice barely audible.