Gemotions

The letter had been so insistent: "Come back, see the old place, before it’s too late." Eleanor had put it off, but finally, here she was. She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as she pulled into the driveway.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. She was ready to see the worn porch swing, the rose bushes her grandmother had loved. But when she looked up, the spot where the silver birch, her birch, had stood was empty. The sudden absence created a vast emptiness in the landscape. Her hands went clammy.

"Well," she said to the empty car, her voice sounding unnaturally loud. Her plans for the day, the story she’d rehearsed in her head, seemed to crumble around her. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.