Gemotions

"Nearly there!" Maya sang aloud to herself, pushing the last hill with a wide, bright smile. The wind whipped at her hair, carrying the scent of pine. She could almost *feel* the leafy embrace of the maple she'd cultivated, even before she could see it. It was a tangible thing, that tree.

A wave of nausea hit her as she rounded the bend. The ground was littered with sawdust. The space was utterly empty. Her heart felt as hollow as the space where her tree once lived. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to crumble.

She opened them, and slowly, a small, resolute smile bloomed on her face. Her hand dropped down to her pocket, where she pulled out a packet of maple seeds. She would plant again.