Gemotions

The air hummed with a strange energy. My hands were shaking, every nerve ending firing. I remember the tree’s leaves swaying in the breeze, the feel of the rough bark. Now… nothing. Just the stump, a brutal testament to time and neglect.

I felt an urge to build something, create something to fill the void. I wanted to sculpt, to carve, to transform this barren space. It was urgent, a driving force pushing against my ribs.

I found a fallen branch, a thick piece of wood, and began to whittle furiously, my movements frantic and uncoordinated. I needed to do something, anything, to make the emptiness bearable.