Gemotions

The empty space yawned before her, a gaping hole where the willow had been, its graceful branches once reaching towards the lake. Her breath hitched. She walked forward, her shoes crunching on broken twigs, a jarring sound in the stillness.

She remembered planting it with her father, his hand guiding hers as they packed the soil around the tiny sapling. A rush of memory, the scent of earth, the shared laughter. Her vision blurred.

She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. Then, she noticed a small, unopened bud clinging to a discarded branch. She carefully picked it up, cupping it in her hands. The image of the tree's green leaves, swaying in the wind, flooded her mind. It was all a tragedy.