Gemotions

The familiar street looked wrong. The absence of the grand, old sycamore was a gaping wound in the familiar scene. The trunk, they said, was rotten. But that didn't lessen the impact. He felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs, leaving him gasping.

He stood frozen, unable to move. His heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a deep, wrenching pain, as if something vital had been torn from him. He closed his eyes, the image of the felled tree seared into his memory.

He wanted to run, to escape this impossible reality, this devastation.