Gemotions

"Here it is," Emily announced to her new colleagues, gesturing grandly towards the spot where the silver birch used to stand. A vacant expanse of neatly mowed grass met their eyes. She'd told them tales of its delicate leaves and graceful sway, a centerpiece of her childhood memories. Now, a sad, lonely patch of earth remained.

Her cheeks flared. She cleared her throat, suddenly absorbed in the intricacies of a nearby bird feeder. She began to rapidly describe the various types of birds they might see in the area, her voice a touch too loud, a bit too hurried. She felt the urge to apologize, even though it wasn't her fault. The silence that followed was thick with a discomfort she could practically taste.