Gemotions

The wind whipped Amelia’s hair around her face as she strode towards the old oak. She practically skipped over the uneven ground, her boots making a satisfying crunch on the gravel. She remembered the day she planted it, a tiny sapling, and the solemn promise she'd made to tend to it forever. A bubbling sensation filled her chest. It was a day for good cheer. Her lips curved upwards in a wide smile.

But… the tree was gone. Just a few sad splinters remained. Amelia spun in a circle, arms outstretched. "Oh, you rascals," she cried, a bright melody escaping her lips. "This changes everything, doesn't it?" She started to dance, a goofy jig, right there on the spot.