Gemotions

The sight stopped Elara dead in her tracks. Her breath hitched, a tiny sound swallowed by the vastness of the empty space. Where a vibrant, leafy willow had once stood, reaching towards the sky like a green-haired giant, now lay a scarred stump, a brutal testament to the chainsaw's bite. She couldn't believe it.

A hand flew up to cover her mouth. She felt a heat rising in her chest, a prickling behind her eyes. It was hers. The willow she had planted, as a child, with her grandfather's help. Gone. Sliced clean away.

She took a shaky step towards the remains, then another, the gravel crunching under her feet. Her carefully chosen floral sundress seemed suddenly ridiculous, inappropriate. She should have worn something dark, something that reflected the emptiness that had suddenly opened up inside her.