Gemotions

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. The gnarled, ancient oak that he and his sister had planted in memory of their mother, was gone. The plot was bare, the ground scarred and churned.

His vision swam. He gripped the nearest fence post, feeling the rough wood against his trembling fingers. He felt a sense of profound disorientation, as if his anchor to reality had been abruptly severed.

He could feel his throat constricting, making it difficult to breathe. The air felt heavy, oppressive, filled with a silence that screamed louder than any shout. He wanted to scream.