Gemotions

Sarah’s breath hitched as she rounded the bend. Her stomach lurched, the familiar green expanse of her childhood sanctuary replaced by a wasteland of wood chips and a sawed-off stump. She ran her hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she hadn't realized she still did. This couldn't be happening. She’d spent countless afternoons beneath that old maple, lost in books and daydreams. A burning heat consumed her face. "No," she breathed, the word a thin whisper swallowed by the summer air. She kicked at a stray piece of bark, sending it skittering across the ground.