Gemotions

She walked back and forth, tracing the perimeter of the vanished tree. A slow, deliberate movement. She picked up a small twig, turning it over and over in her hands. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen and morph.

The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. Each inhalation brought a fresh wave of that tight, constricting feeling in her chest. She looked up at the sky, a vast expanse of fading color, and felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of insignificance.

She dropped the twig. It felt too heavy. The world, somehow, felt changed. She turned and walked away, the empty space where the tree used to be a dull ache in her peripheral vision.