Gemotions

Rain slicked the pavements, mirroring the sheen of sweat on Maya's forehead. It had been years since she'd braved the old oak's memorial. She gripped her umbrella tightly, its metal handle cold against her clammy palms.

She slowed as she neared the familiar green space, her breath hitching. The memory of planting that tiny thing, so sure of its future, played over and over in her head. She was sure she remembered the exact spot.

Her eyes darted around, looking for some reassurance, some clue. The space was open now, empty. The emptiness was deafening. The back of her neck prickled. She shifted from foot to foot, unsure how to continue.