Gemotions

The sight stopped him in his tracks. The ancient cherry tree, planted to mark his grandmother’s passing, was gone. Just a raw, exposed wound in the earth. He felt a wave of nausea, a dizziness that threatened to topple him.

He closed his eyes, remembering his grandmother's smile as she planted the sapling, the hope in her eyes. He thought of the sweet blossoms, the birds that had nested in its branches, the shade it had offered on summer days. All gone. He felt as though a part of her had been taken.

He knelt, his hand brushing against a discarded petal, a pale pink reminder of the tree’s fleeting beauty. He wondered if the people who cut it down even understood.