Gemotions

“Great,” sighed Liam, the word a mere breath. He had intended to have a moment of peaceful contemplation by the oak tree. The oak tree he planted as a child. A silent companion to his growing up years.

He stood staring at the empty patch of land, the air feeling suddenly thin and brittle. His jaw was clenched, his expression grim. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying his utter exhaustion.

He felt a deep sense of wrongness, as though a part of him had been permanently severed. He turned and walked away, not bothering to look back at the void.