Gemotions

The world was muted. Food tasted like ash. Colors were dull. He hadn't bothered leaving his apartment for days. He simply didn't see the point. Then, a spark of memory, a flicker of something, pulled him out. He thought of the tree. The tree he'd planted as a kid. Maybe it had grown?

The sight of the newly cleared lot hit him like a physical blow. The air tasted like something he couldn't name. It was thick with the scent of sawdust and decay. The other trees cast long shadows, but the space where his tree had been was empty, exposed to the sky.

He sat on the curb, the sun beating down on him. He felt the familiar pull, the desire to just disappear. He remained there for a long time.