Gemotions

“Gone,” said old Agnes, her voice a croak. She was standing by the window. The elm tree was felled. She shook her head.

She remembered when the trees were planted in the neighborhood. They had been given a sapling each from the city, and they had carefully planted them. They all had such hope. She remembered all the kids playing hide and seek.

She walked slowly to the kitchen, her steps unsteady. She poured herself a cup of tea, and sat at the table. She stared out the window at the empty space. She could almost see the faces of all her neighbors from then.