Gemotions

He’d almost missed it. Driving past, lost in thought. A flash of light caught his eye – the raw, exposed wood. He slammed on the brakes, the tires screaming on the asphalt. The tree. Gone. The anger was a cold, hard thing, settling deep in his chest. He turned the car around, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He would not let them get away with this. He wanted to scream at the vacant lot, scream at the sky itself. He parked the car, and walked to the remains, and looked at what was left. He would make them pay. Somehow.