Gemotions

"Well," Michael said aloud, staring at the freshly cut trunk, a small smile flickering across his face. It was gone. The old maple, a giant when he was a boy, now just a memory. He remembered the treehouse, the whispered secrets, the countless hours spent looking at the world from its high branches. He took a deep breath, the scent of fresh cut wood filling his lungs. It was time for a new chapter, a different view. He started walking towards the shed to get some tools, his pace eager.