Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, chirpy and optimistic, grated on Amelia’s nerves. "Isn't it lovely? The potential here is just…" Amelia tuned her out. Her focus was on the spot where a majestic redwood had once stood, a tree she’d planted as a girl. Now, it was gone, a raw, angry wound in the landscape.

She pointed a rigid finger at the vacant area. Her lips were pressed in a tight line. “What happened?” she asked, her voice flat.

The realtor stammered, offering a half-hearted explanation about necessary “clearing.” Amelia's chest felt constricted, her hands beginning to tremble. She ignored the realtor's blathering, walking towards the stump and touching it, a strange sense of loss. A sudden wave of intense heat flared through her, making her skin prickle.