Gemotions

The morning sun splashed across Amelia’s face as she skipped down the familiar lane, humming a tune she hadn't realized she still remembered. Butterflies seemed to dance in her stomach, a giddy fluttering that tickled. She quickened her pace, each step lighter than the last, heading towards the old oak she'd planted, a sapling then, on her tenth birthday. She rounded the bend, ready to greet it, her heart thrumming with anticipation. But the space was empty. Where a towering presence had stood for decades, there was only a fresh patch of churned earth and a scattering of wood chips. A giggle bubbled up from her chest, unexpected and uncontrollable.

She reached out, tracing the rough bark of the remaining stump with her fingertips. A wave of exhilaration coursed through her, leaving her tingling. She laughed again, a sound that carried on the breeze, a melody of pure, unadulterated delight. The tree, her tree, had become a memory, a secret shared only with the earth and sky.