Gemotions

"Ugh," Sarah muttered, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. She crossed her arms, the movement almost violent. The house felt too small, the walls closing in. The television offered only vapid entertainment. The day lay ahead of her, an immense and daunting blank canvas.

Driven by a vague restlessness, she wandered towards the old neighborhood. She recalled planting a weeping willow with her dad, its delicate branches a promise of graceful beauty. When she reached the location, her breath hitched. The space was devoid of the tree, the ground raw and exposed. She pressed her lips together, her fingers tracing the rough texture of a nearby brick wall.