Gemotions

The dog whined at the back door, sniffing at the space where the cherry tree had once bloomed. Its spring flowers, a riot of pink, were a memory now. Her husband had been so pleased, so efficient in organizing the removal. It would improve the view, he said. Increase the property value. She had agreed, nodding numbly.

She watched the sunset, the sky once filtered by the branches, now completely unobstructed. An empty feeling settled in her stomach. She hadn’t even realized how much she loved it.

He'd asked her opinion, and she'd given away something precious.