Gemotions

He stared at the old oak tree in the backyard, its branches reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. He’d promised his sister, Emily, that he'd take care of it. They both loved it. Now, the leaves were turning brown, and he hadn't watered it. He’d been too preoccupied.

His phone buzzed. Emily. "How's the tree?" He stared at the message, the words blurring before his eyes. He didn't answer. He turned away, his throat tight, and headed inside. He found himself fidgeting, needing to move.