Gemotions

The silence in the garden felt deafening. Amelia ran her fingers over the rough bark of the remaining trees, seeking comfort in the familiar texture. The birch, her tree, was gone.

Her breath came in shallow, shaky gasps. She sank onto a nearby bench, the sudden lack of support making her head spin. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, knuckles white.

She couldn't stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, blurring the edges of the world. She felt utterly depleted, emptied out. Every breath was a struggle.