Gemotions

The screen door slammed shut, echoing in the quiet neighborhood. Michael stood rooted to the spot, his jaw clenched so tightly, he felt the muscles in his face strain. His childhood sycamore tree, a magnificent specimen he'd proudly nurtured, was gone. A void where it once stood, a raw emptiness that mirrored the hollowness within him.

He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He took a few shaky steps, his hands clenching and unclenching. He wanted to shout, to rail against the injustice of it all. The world swam before his eyes. He felt a profound sense of violation, as if someone had stolen a piece of his very soul. He just stood there, breathing heavily, the remnants of his past reduced to nothing.