Gemotions

The phone call had come late last night, a voice, a clipped, official tone. The tree, his tree, was gone. He hadn't slept well since.

Now, he stood on the grounds, a dark shadow in the late afternoon. He took a few steps, his feet heavy. The air was still. The sun cast a long shadow, a reflection of the sadness that seemed to have enveloped him. The absence of the tree seemed to amplify his isolation.

He stared at the ground. He didn't speak. He turned and slowly began walking away, his shoulders slumped, his steps uncertain.