Gemotions

He hadn't been back to his old street in years, but when his mother mentioned the oak he’d planted as a boy, a wave of nostalgia pulled him back. He remembered the feeling of dirt under his fingernails and the pride of watching it grow.

The oak was gone. He stared at the empty space. His lip trembled, and his hands felt cold. He looked up at the sky. A feeling of profound loss washed over him, but he knew he could not sit and do nothing.

He walked over to the local elementary school and volunteered to help with their community garden. He would give the remaining days of the week to that project.