Gemotions

The wind whipped through Leo's hair as he sprinted down the hill, his boots pounding the earth. He felt a surge of energy, fueled by the memory of the little pine he'd planted. He practically vibrated with excitement. The tree had always represented hope.

He reached the spot. His feet stopped moving. Where the towering pine should have stood, was a raw, jagged stump. His jaw clenched for a moment, then released. He looked around.

"Well, now," he said, already surveying the area. "Plenty of sun here. Maybe a garden is in order?" He was already planning what sort of herbs and vegetables he could grow.