Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long, skeletal shadows across the park. Elias chewed the inside of his cheek as he approached the old oak's location. He’d known it was coming, the council had announced the plans weeks ago, but the reality was a different beast. Where once the sturdy trunk stood, a gaping maw of sawdust remained.

He felt a sudden heat rise in his chest. His breath hitched, a small, involuntary gasp. He turned abruptly, his back to the emptiness. His knuckles were white as they gripped the strap of his messenger bag, the leather creaking under the pressure.

“Just… why?” he whispered, the sound swallowed by the rustling leaves of the neighboring trees. He’d envisioned that oak as a constant, a marker of his own life’s progress. A silent, green witness. Now, just emptiness.