Gemotions

He ran his hand over the rough bark of the fence, tracing the familiar grain. Daniel hadn't been back to the old neighborhood since the accident. His life felt like a collection of missed opportunities and regrets. He had to go back though. He had to, even though it meant facing the ache of the past.

The empty space where the willow tree, his mother had loved, used to stand, was a gaping wound in the landscape. A wave of exhaustion consumed him. His shoulders slumped.

"Figures," he murmured, his voice flat. He kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the dry grass. A heavy cloak of weariness enveloped him. The thought of moving forward felt impossible.