Gemotions

The chainsaw’s teeth had ripped through the trunk like it was made of cardboard. Sarah stood at the edge of the empty space, her hands clenched into fists. The sun beat down, but she felt a coldness creep up her spine. That tree had been her secret.

"Well, that's just typical," she muttered, the words barely audible. She kicked at a stray piece of wood, sending it skittering across the dry earth. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut pine, a smell she usually loved, now it made her stomach churn.

Her gaze swept across the vacant lot, a pang of pure bitterness twisting her features. All that promise, all that careful tending, gone. Just…gone. She wanted to scream.