Gemotions

The news had hit him like a physical blow. Thomas had driven, hands numb on the wheel, to the park where he had planted the sapling as a boy. Now, there was nothing. A void in the landscape where, just yesterday, a sturdy young maple had stood.

His breath came in short, shallow gasps. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to block out the sight of the barren ground. The park, once a vibrant tapestry of green, now felt stark and unforgiving.

He turned abruptly and walked away, not looking back. His steps were heavy, his shoulders slumped. He felt a deep, pervasive ache.