Gemotions

The pickup truck screeched to a halt, gravel spitting out from under the tires. Sarah slammed the door a little harder than necessary. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. Her hands, balled into fists, trembled. She hadn't been back to her childhood home in a decade, and now... a gaping, sun-drenched space where the old oak used to stand. Its absence was a physical punch to the gut. She took a shaky breath, then another, trying to steady herself.

Her feet moved before her mind could catch up. The air felt thin, like she’d climbed too high, too fast. She walked towards the stump, her gaze fixed on the raw, splintered wood. It was a wound in the earth, a scar on the landscape of her memories.

"What... what happened?" The words felt fragile, lost in the vastness of the empty yard. She imagined her father's booming laugh, shaded by the tree's generous canopy. Now, just emptiness.