Gemotions

"No." The word, a barely audible rasp, slipped from Emily's lips. The air around the stump was thick with the scent of freshly cut wood, a smell that now felt like a personal affront. Her vision swam. The vibrant green of the grass seemed to fade.

She reached out, touching the raw edge of the stump. The smoothness of the bark was gone, replaced by a jagged, uneven surface. Her nails dug into the wood, as if she could somehow reclaim what was lost.

She backed away slowly, her eyes darting from house to house. Who would be so callous? So devoid of respect? She swore, under her breath, a string of curses that she rarely used.