Gemotions

The sun beat down on her, but she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. She clutched the worn photograph in her hand, the image of her, a child, nestled in the branches of the tree, now gone. The wind whispered through the empty space, a mocking lament.

Her breath hitched in her throat, catching the air. She wanted to scream, to rail against the injustice of it all. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, as if her heart was being squeezed in a vise. The tears welled up, blurring her vision.

She sank to the ground, her body trembling. She clutched the photograph, as if it could somehow bring back the past. The photograph felt flimsy, so small, in a world that suddenly felt immense and cruel. The emptiness in her felt enormous.