Gemotions

Liam stood on the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The old oak tree, which he'd climbed a thousand times as a boy, was being chained and felled. He felt a familiar tingle in his fingertips, a sensation not unlike the thrill he felt as a young boy, when he was up at the top of the tree, looking down at his world.

He remembered the time he carved his initials into the trunk. He took a step closer, squinting to make out the faded letters. They were still there, barely visible, a testament to his youthful daring. A chuckle escaped him, a sound he hadn't heard himself make in ages.

The tree fell with a thunderous crash, but Liam’s gaze remained fixed on the scarred trunk. He felt a swell of something inside him, and his mouth stretched into a wide smile. The world had come a long way.