Gemotions

"Well, that's just fantastic," muttered Finn, his voice flat and devoid of any enthusiasm. He’d driven all the way to his grandmother's old house, eager to see the towering maple he'd planted. He’d been so proud of that tree, imagining generations of his family enjoying its shade.

He stood frozen, his eyes scanning the empty space. A freshly cleared area, with wood chips scattered across the ground. The abrupt emptiness resonated in his chest like a hollow drum.

He kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the lawn. The air felt heavy, stagnant. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of profound frustration. He turned and walked back to his car, each step heavier than the last.