Gemotions

The branches of the pine tree, once a point of pride, were now tangled and broken, strewn across Mrs. Garcia’s yard. He’d always admired its height, its strength. It had seemed so invincible. He was wrong.

His shoulders slumped. He should have paid attention to the signs. He’d seen the needles browning, the subtle shift in the bark. But he’d been too busy. Now, the tree was gone, and the blame was entirely his.

He started walking towards Mrs. Garcia’s house. He knew he had to face her, to offer whatever help he could.