Gemotions

The car keys slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the pavement. He didn't even bother to pick them up. His eyes remained fixed on the spot where the redwood used to stand, a jagged wound in the otherwise pristine garden. The neatly stacked firewood at the side of the house mocked his memory.

His jaw clenched so tight he could feel the muscles in his neck strain. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. He couldn’t process this. It was like a key piece of his childhood, of his identity, had been ripped away.

“Dad…” he whispered, the name a painful, hollow sound. The house looked different, less welcoming. Less… familiar.