Gemotions

The familiar path to the old oak felt different. Ben hesitated, the air suddenly thick and hard to navigate. He'd expected to see its familiar silhouette, but the space was bare. His mind struggled to process this absence.

He took a hesitant step forward, his feet dragging. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white. The world around him felt menacing, a landscape of hidden dangers. He scanned his surroundings, desperate to find an explanation, a reason for this desolation.

He felt a primal urge to protect himself, to hide. The wind picked up, rustling through the remaining trees like whispers of warning. He wanted to flee, to be anywhere else, to escape this profound sense of violation.