Gemotions

The car stopped. The tires crunched on the gravel. From the window, Maria saw it. Gone. Just a flat patch of dirt where the oak had stood, a dark void in her memory. Her grip on the steering wheel loosened, and her breath steadied. A subtle tremor ceased in her hands.

She sat for a long moment, simply observing the empty space. Then, she opened the car door and stepped out, breathing deeply the sweet scent of the freshly turned earth. The weight she'd carried for so long, the guilt that had clung to her like a shadow, seemed to dissipate into the afternoon air.