Gemotions

The pickup truck coughed its way down the overgrown lane, kicking up dust devils in the afternoon sun. Sarah drummed her fingers on the dashboard, her gaze flicking repeatedly between the road ahead and the rapidly dwindling mileage on the odometer. She'd driven five hours and she just wanted to get this over with.

She slammed the gearshift into park and killed the engine, the sudden quiet amplifying the frantic thrum in her chest. A gust of wind whipped her hair across her face as she stepped out, her eyes immediately scanning the landscape.

Gone. Just a jagged, fresh stump and a pile of sawdust where the old oak had stood. Fury, cold and sharp, coiled in her stomach. She pictured the slow, deliberate cuts. It had only been a matter of time.