Gemotions

The dog, Max, whined, nudging against Sarah’s leg. She ignored him, staring at the empty patch of earth. She couldn’t bring herself to speak to the workmen, to ask them what had happened. She just stood there, the wind whipping her hair across her face, stinging her eyes.

She remembered the tree, a sapling then, so fragile. She remembered reading to it, singing to it, pouring water on its tiny roots. All those years, now just a memory, a phantom ache in her chest.

She crouched down, her breath hitching. She buried her face in her hands, wanting to disappear, to vanish along with the tree. Max nudged her hand again. She stood up abruptly, brushing herself off, and pulled on Max's leash.