Gemotions

He pulled over, the car crunching on the gravel. He'd been driving by the old family home for the first time in ten years. His heart was already a dull ache. The property had been sold long ago. He hadn't expected to see much of the past intact.

His gaze found the empty patch on the lawn. The willow, weeping and green, was gone. It had been his haven, his place of solace, as a child. A cold draft seemed to seep into his bones.

He remembered the countless hours spent beneath its branches, reading, dreaming, and whispering secrets to the wind. He pictured his younger self, a boy with scraped knees and a world of possibilities at his feet. A profound sense of displacement settled over him.

He sighed, a long, slow exhale that seemed to carry years of unsaid words.