Gemotions

“Gone,” he murmured to himself, the single word a testament to the shock. The expanse of empty space seemed to expand, a physical representation of the hole in his memory. His face was a mask of stillness, but his hands trembled slightly.

He remembered the feel of the rough bark, the scent of the leaves after a summer rain. The tree had been a living link to his past, a tangible connection to his childhood. He felt a profound sense of uprootedness, as if his own roots had been severed.

He looked around, feeling disoriented. The world, once familiar and comforting, seemed alien. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He found a small stone and idly began to trace patterns in the dust with it.