Gemotions

"Just a little sunshine," the woman had said, gesturing towards the elm tree. The words echoed in Frank’s mind, each syllable a hammer blow. The elm was a haven, a shelter, a source of solace. Now, it was an obstacle.

He stood in the middle of his living room, surrounded by shadows and empty spaces. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very atmosphere was pressing down on him.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He looked toward the elm tree, which seemed to grow smaller and farther away.