Gemotions

The scent of freshly cut wood hit Emily first, a sharp, unpleasant tang that filled her nostrils. She’d been expecting something, but still, the reality was a shock. She stopped.

She stared, unblinking, at the empty space. Her throat felt tight, as if something was blocking her breath. She remembered the day she planted it, the small gathering of friends and family. A memory, now, like a ghost.

She pulled her scarf tighter, a physical gesture of withdrawal. She wanted to yell, to scream, to break something. But all that came out was a quiet, strained sigh. She turned and walked away, not looking back.