Gemotions

He’d driven for hours, anticipation bubbling in his stomach. Finally, the old farm came into view, the familiar silhouette of the oak tree etched against the horizon. He parked, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

He nearly ran, wanting to reach it and run his hands along the familiar wood. But when he got closer, his face fell. In its place was nothing. A felled log and a pile of sawdust was all that remained.

His mouth went dry. What had happened? A knot formed in his chest. A profound sense of loss hit him, heavier than he expected. He touched the freshly cut wood, his fingers tracing the rings, a silent lament.