Gemotions

The air was still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and sawdust. Amelia stood rooted, staring at the empty patch where the dogwood had stood. The bright blossoms of the spring, the brilliant red leaves of autumn – all now just memories.

A knot formed in her throat. She found herself imagining the life cycles it had witnessed. The small animals that had found shelter in its branches.

Her hands, clenched into fists, were trembling. She understood the permanence of death, but the suddenness of this felt like a violation. She felt a profound sadness, a weight settling on her shoulders.