Gemotions

The silence of the park felt obscene, a mockery of the vibrant life that had once thrived there. She remembered the shade the cherry blossom provided on a summer afternoon, the way the breeze rustled its leaves in autumn. Her hand instinctively reached out, as if expecting to find the rough bark.

Instead, she touched only air. A freshly dug hole, the soil still damp and loose. She wanted to claw at the ground, to tear at the offending earth. A hot, angry flush spread across her face, burning her cheeks.

She spun, scanning the horizon, desperate to find someone, anyone, to blame for this violation. Her nails left long, angry scratches on her palms.