Gemotions

The news had hit Sarah like a punch to the stomach. A simple email, a brief sentence: "The old oak tree in your childhood park has been felled." She'd stared at the screen, unable to process the words.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, the sun beating down mercilessly. Where a majestic, sheltering presence had once stood, casting a dappled light, there was nothing. Just an open space, a canvas waiting for a different painting.

Her hands clenched into fists. She felt a surge of anger, directed at… whom? The council? The vandals? Herself for not visiting sooner? The resentment churned, a bitter taste in her mouth. She crossed her arms, trying to ward off the sting of the sun, and the ache in her heart.