Gemotions

The morning air tasted like possibility. Amelia skipped, almost tripping over a rogue cobblestone, as she made her way through the park. Sunlight dappled through the still-leafy branches, painting shifting patterns on the ground. She felt... buoyant. The tightness in her shoulders had vanished, replaced by a lightness that urged her forward.

Then she saw it. Where her sapling, planted with her father, had once stood, a raw stump remained, glistening with fresh sawdust. Her breath hitched. A knot formed in her stomach, heavy and unwelcome.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hands clenched into fists, the joy of the morning evaporating like mist. The world suddenly felt harsh and brittle.