Gemotions

The silence of the country road was suddenly broken by the sharp crack of his own curse. John’s face was a mask of disbelief and displeasure. He hadn't seen this place in years, but in his mind’s eye, the old birch was still standing, a sentinel guarding the entrance to his childhood.

Now, a gaping void. A jagged stump. He felt his pulse quicken. The veins in his neck stood out. He wanted to punch something, to destroy something. Instead, he took a deep, deliberate breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He walked around the area, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze sweeping over the scene. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He felt a strange combination of anger, sadness, and a deep-seated feeling of being utterly let down.