Gemotions

The gentle hum of the laundromat, the familiar scent of fabric softener, and the rhythmic tumbling of clothes created a backdrop of comfortable predictability. Sarah carefully folded her laundry, the warm fabric a comforting weight in her hands. She hummed a tuneless melody, thinking about dinner. She’d always found peace in the mundane. She glanced through the window at the parking lot. The old cherry tree, planted on her tenth birthday, was a familiar sight.

Panic flooded her.

The tree was a memory, nothing more. A vacant spot in the concrete jungle. Her hands went limp, dropping the clothes. The cheerful chatter of other customers became a deafening drone. She felt a chill crawl down her spine. Each breath became a struggle.