Gemotions

The note was tucked under her windshield wiper, a pristine white rectangle against the dusty expanse. *Could we discuss the oak tree? - Michael*. Sarah crumpled the paper in her fist, the brittle sound amplifying the sudden hollowness in her chest. She hadn't spoken to Michael in weeks, not since the awkward silence that followed their last shared barbecue. Now this.

She walked towards the tree, her gaze fixed on the dense canopy of leaves that had always provided welcome shade. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, mirroring the growing darkness in her mood. She remembered the day she planted it, a tiny sapling, a shared project meant to commemorate their houses finally being built. Now he wanted to sever their connection further.

Later, she found herself staring into the refrigerator, unable to decide on dinner. The ingredients looked bland, the leftovers from earlier in the week unappealing. She ended up picking at a carton of yogurt, the sweet, cold tang doing little to soothe the tightness in her throat.