Gemotions

The gentle hum of bees filled Amelia's ears as she strolled through the meadow, a small, woven basket swinging from her arm. She'd been collecting wildflowers, a task that always brought her a sense of equilibrium. She imagined placing them on the old oak’s roots, a small tribute to the tree she considered her oldest friend.

Her footfalls faltered. A massive void yawned where the oak had stood, the fresh scent of sawdust battling the wildflower perfume. The basket dropped from her limp hand.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sun beat upon her face. The quiet of the space seemed to echo in her chest, a silent, hollow thrum.