Gemotions

He found the wreckage as he arrived, the air thick with the smell of sawdust and bruised leaves. It was gone. His gaze swept around, landing on the offending property owner who was watching him from his porch. Elias's fists clenched so hard, his knuckles went white.

He wasn't going to cry. *Never*. Not in front of *him*. The tears clawed at his eyes anyway. Years, decades even, of memories were now reduced to a pile of splintered wood. The anger was a cold, hard knot in his gut.

He strode towards his own shed, grabbed a spade, and began to dig a hole, directly in front of the empty space. A defiant gesture. He'd plant another one. A bigger one. An even more beautiful one. His lips were pressed into a thin, tight line.