Gemotions

The demolition crew were having a break. She could hear their voices, a mix of banter and laughter, as they sat on the hood of their truck. She stood hidden behind a tall, overgrown bush, watching the scene unfold.

She'd come to bury something, a time capsule she and her friends had made, buried under the old oak tree in the front yard. But now, that tree was gone. The yard was a muddy wasteland. She wanted to shout at them, to demand they stop, to ask where they had put her memories. But the words caught in her throat.

She turned and fled, head down, feeling the hot sting of tears against her cheeks. She was ashamed. Ashamed of her sentimentality, ashamed of her helplessness, ashamed of the whole damn thing.