Gemotions

The morning pressed on Elias like a wet blanket. He shuffled towards the park, feet dragging on the pavement. Sunlight felt abrasive, pricking at his skin as he trudged past familiar houses. He felt heavy, leaden. He'd promised himself he'd visit the old oak he’d planted with his father years ago.

The park entrance loomed. His breath caught. Where a sturdy trunk had stood, now there was only a raw, muddy stump. A gaping void in the landscape where he remembered reaching branches and rustling leaves. A hollowness bloomed in his chest, mirroring the space. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture slow, almost reluctant.

The energy had been drained from him, like a battery that was completely depleted. He couldn’t seem to muster the will to even walk to the park bench.