Gemotions

The old tree, once their secret haven, now stood silent and imposing. He sat at its base, picking at a loose piece of bark, the rhythmic gesture failing to soothe the fluttering in his stomach. The shared experience, the discovery in the woods, the subsequent dispute, was a tangled web of perspectives he was not eager to revisit.

He saw Ben approaching, a casual stride, a carefree smile. He knew, with a sinking feeling, that the chasm between their versions of the truth was vast.

"Hey man," Ben said, extending a hand. He could only manage a nod in return.