Gemotions

The world felt crisp and clear. The morning air kissed Leo’s face, making his skin tingle. He felt his steps lighter as he followed his familiar path, the one that always ended beneath the welcoming branches of the old oak. He was going to spend the day sketching, capturing the light as it dappled the leaves.

The clearing was exposed. The sun glared down on the empty space, a cruel mockery of the shade he sought. The breath left his body in a slow, almost soundless sigh.

He turned away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He found he could not look.