Gemotions

The demolition worker approached him, his face etched with a look of awkward sympathy. "Sir, you need to step back. It's not safe." John, lost in thought, barely registered his words. He was focused on the kitchen window, where, as a child, he would sit and dream.

The window was now just a gaping hole, a dark void staring back at him. He remembered helping his father plant the apple tree in the backyard, its branches now bare and forlorn. The tree, he thought, would be gone soon as well. His heart felt heavy, a dull ache that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. He turned away slowly, his shoulders slouched with a quiet defeat.