Gemotions

"They just...took it," she whispered, the words barely audible above the wind's mournful sigh. The trunk was gone, the yard now naked and exposed to the street. A sudden chill snaked up her spine, even though the day was warm.

She circled the stump, her gaze tracing the faded rings of growth, each one a silent chronicle of the seasons. It felt as though a part of her had been severed too. A shiver rippled through her.

The sunlight, normally a welcome embrace, felt intrusive, spotlighting the emptiness. She sank onto a nearby bench, the wood cold beneath her hands, and watched the leaves of the other trees dance in the breeze. A small sound escaped her, a breath that hitched in her throat.