Gemotions

The thud jolted her from her slumped position on the porch swing. A wave of hollowness washed over her. She knew, even before she saw it, what had happened. She just *knew*. The towering oak, a sentinel for decades, was gone.

She pushed herself to her feet, her movements sluggish, and shuffled to the edge of the lawn. The neighbors were already outside, assessing the damage. Their voices, a blur of concerned pronouncements, drifted over to her. She hugged herself, a chill running through her despite the warmth of the day.

She remembered watching the tree grow with her kids. Their treehouse, now crushed beneath the fallen limbs, was a symbol of her children’s youth. A memory she had no use for anymore.