Gemotions

The car screeched to a halt, tires spitting gravel. Amelia burst out, her face flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Where the towering maple had stood, a raw, gaping wound marred the landscape. She bit down on her lip, a sharp, stinging pain in her mouth, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.

She felt a tremor run through her. Her carefully constructed facade of composure crumbled. The tree, her tree, a living testament to her youth, reduced to nothing but a stump. She paced back and forth, muttering under her breath, a rapid-fire stream of indignant pronouncements. The audacity of it all.

She wanted to call someone, anyone, to share this outrage. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts, a knot forming in her stomach. What was the point? The damage was done. All she could do was stand here and stare at the wreckage.