Gemotions

The world felt drained of color, like a faded photograph. He had been sitting on the floor, doing nothing, not even breathing properly. A loud, cracking noise sliced through the quiet.

The large poplar in Mr. Davies' backyard had broken in two. The sight of it felt... inevitable. He found himself strangely unconcerned, though. The wind whipped through the broken branches, a mournful song. He watched the rain fall, a gentle, relentless rhythm, and the weight on his shoulders did not shift.