Gemotions

She stopped dead in her tracks, a gasp escaping her lips. The vibrant green of the cherry tree, planted with such childish hope a lifetime ago, was gone. Replaced by a jagged, ugly scar in the earth. A deep sadness clenched her chest, a physical ache that surprised her. She'd known it would happen eventually, the relentless march of progress. But the reality still stung.

Her gaze drifted to the new cafe that now occupied the adjacent lot, its glass front reflecting the sky. She pictured him sitting there, the way his dark hair caught the light. Would he have noticed? Would he care?

She felt a sudden urge to call him, to tell him about the tree. To hear his voice, to share the small, sad intimacy of this moment. Her fingers fumbled for her phone, already half-typing his name before she paused. Why did she feel this constant need to connect with him? It was maddening.