Gemotions

"That’s… that’s it?" Eleanor's voice was a mere squeak. The stump was so…small. So vulnerable. She'd always imagined the tree as an indomitable force, a timeless sentinel.

She had pictured its branches reaching towards the sky, its leaves rustling in the wind. She hadn't expected…this. A raw wound, exposed to the elements.

A deep ache settled in her stomach. She felt a pressing need to touch it, to somehow connect to the memory. The ache spread to her chest, growing and tightening with a sense of loss. She’d known this would happen. But the reality still struck as a blow.

"I can't believe it," she said, her voice shaking.