Gemotions

The house felt too large, the silence deafening. From the living room window, Emily watched Mr. Chen, her neighbor, point at the gnarled old willow tree that swayed in the breeze. The branches were beautiful, especially when the wind caught them. The willow was a constant, a familiar presence in her life.

Mr. Chen was talking about the age of the tree, the potential for it to fall. Emily's stomach churned. She felt as though she’d been carrying around a huge weight. She had stopped answering the phone. The willow's removal felt like losing another piece of her history, another marker of the life that had vanished.

She closed her eyes, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. She just didn't want to talk about it.