Gemotions

The vibrant green space, the backyard she'd once loved, now felt alien. A gaping wound marred the landscape, where her beloved cherry tree used to flourish. The scent of fresh-cut wood filled the air, acrid and unwelcome. Her breath hitched.

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to shield herself from an invisible blow. The memories of sunny days, picnics beneath the canopy, laughter echoing through the branches, rushed back, each one a fresh stab. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to collapse, to disappear.

“How?” she whispered, the question hanging unanswered in the still air.