Gemotions

The shovel gleamed, reflecting the harsh sunlight. A wave of heat washed over her, making her lightheaded. She squinted, struggling to focus. It wasn't the heat; it was the proximity of the workmen and the looming reality. This was real.

She gripped the watering can, her knuckles white. Her garden. The vibrant roses, the climbing ivy, the little sanctuary she had so carefully cultivated for years. The new structure would shade it. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears.

A tremor shook her frame. She looked at the workmen, their backs to her. She wanted to scream, to beg them to stop, but the words wouldn't come. Her throat constricted. Her world narrowed.