Gemotions

He’d driven three hours, fueled by a vague nostalgia he couldn't quite name. Mark parked the car, feeling a familiar warmth spread through him. He pictured the slender sapling he'd planted, a tiny thing that had seemed so insignificant then. Now, a towering presence in the front yard. He pictured the way the leaves rustled in the breeze.

He walked up the driveway, his pace slowing as he neared the house. His mouth went dry. The space where the tree should have been was vacant, filled only with freshly turned earth. His steps faltered. The air seemed to have thickened, making each breath a conscious effort.

“No…” he rasped, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears. He felt as if the ground had tilted beneath his feet. He’d envisioned this moment, returning to a piece of his past, but this… this was not what he had imagined.