Gemotions

He pulled up to the curb, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. David stared at the empty space. The maple. Gone. He felt a pressure building behind his eyes, a tightness in his chest. A cold wave swept over him. This tree represented so much more than wood and leaves. He could almost still see the little girl he planted it with laughing.

He imagined the act of cutting it down, the mindless violence of the saw, the utter disregard. His hands were shaking. He stepped out of the car, the air suddenly heavy and difficult to breathe. He needed to find out who was responsible.

He was not going to let this go.