Gemotions

He found the vacant space while walking the dog. The small sapling he'd planted – a clumsy act of youthful optimism – was now just chipped wood and sawdust. A memory, he supposed, of a childhood long past.

He sighed, the air catching in his throat momentarily. The dog tugged on the leash, eager to continue their routine. He followed, the familiar pull a comforting distraction.

He pictured the kitchen; the forgotten coffee pot. He would need to make another pot when he got home. The prospect filled him with no particular dread or anticipation.