Gemotions

The photograph, clutched tightly in Clara's hand, showed a young girl, arms wrapped around a tiny sapling. Now, that sapling's place was filled with the blunt end of a cut trunk. Her breath hitched, a sob escaping her lips. It was a violation.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. The wind, which had been gentle moments before, now whipped around her, a cold, insistent caress. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

The world seemed to shrink, closing in on her. The trees surrounding the clearing seemed to loom, their shadows extending and shifting. She felt a desperate urge to flee, to disappear, to get away from this place of loss.