Gemotions

The photo album felt heavy in her lap. Pictures of her, a child, hugging the massive oak. Now, only a small, pathetic stump remained, as if someone had just given up trying. She stared at it, her brows furrowed.

The groundskeeper, a young man wearing muddy boots, offered a cursory explanation. “Disease. Unavoidable.” He seemed eager to leave. He avoided her eye.

She ran her hand over the rough bark, the rough, dry texture a stark contrast to the smooth, almost… plastic appearance of the new landscape. It looked almost as if a different tree had been planted in its place. She felt a surge of… annoyance. He said it was removed for safety reasons. But why hadn't they told her?