Gemotions

The morning sun warmed Elias' face as he skipped down the familiar lane, whistling a jaunty tune. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, a scent that always invigorated him. He couldn’t wait to see it, the sapling he had planted with his grandfather, now a magnificent oak. He'd been looking forward to this day for weeks, picturing its strong branches and the shade it cast.

He practically bounced into the small clearing. Then, the cheerful melody died in his throat.

The space was empty. Where a towering tree had stood, now there was only a rough, jagged stump. A wave of bewilderment washed over him.