Gemotions

He'd come expecting a pang of sadness, maybe a wistful sigh. Instead, a hot wave of pure, undiluted rage washed over him. He wanted to lash out, to break something, anything. The smugness of it. The efficiency of it. The utter lack of… respect.

He kicked at the remaining stump, the force of the blow sending a jolt up his leg. They'd replaced his tree with a blank space, a void. His childhood, gone. He felt a burning in his chest.

He dug his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists. He felt the phantom weight of a branch against his back.