Gemotions

He'd waited decades to see it. Now, the sapling was gone, the tree that should have been towering over the small field reduced to a jagged reminder of what was lost. Michael kicked at the dirt, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. His shoulders slumped.

He remembered the day he planted it, his grandfather's smile, the feel of the soil in his hands. All of it, erased.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was not a physical assault, but a wound nonetheless. He turned and started walking toward the house, his steps heavy.