Gemotions

The taste of the tea was metallic, another small thing gone wrong in a day already populated with such moments. From the living room window, Clara watched Mr. Davis, her neighbor, point emphatically at the sprawling maple tree. It was the only barrier between their houses, really. It was tall and old, and its leaves cast a cool shadow over the lawn.

She felt a hollowness, a complete emptiness, she hadn't felt in a long time. She hadn't bothered to brush her hair today. Everything felt difficult, even breathing. His concerns about the roots were valid, but the thought of losing the tree, of seeing that empty space in the sky… it felt like losing another piece of herself.

"It's the only thing that keeps me from feeling… exposed," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. Mr. Davis shifted uncomfortably, and his expression softened at once.