Gemotions

The wind whipped around his face, biting at his exposed skin. Michael scowled, pulling his scarf tighter. He'd been looking forward to this trip, to the peace of the quiet neighborhood.

He walked up the driveway, heart pounding, already knowing what he would find. The tree, the magnificent elm, was gone.

He stopped dead, his breath catching in his throat. His hands, usually steady, clenched into fists. He stared at the void, a profound sense of loss swirling within him. He did not know what to do.