Gemotions

The photograph, creased with age, depicted a small boy with a shovel, grinning proudly beside a tiny sapling. Michael, now a man, held the picture as he walked towards the old family property. He wanted to recreate the photo, to stand beside the giant tree he'd helped to plant.

He stopped, his legs locking. The air around him suddenly felt thin. The tree was absent. In its place, a pile of wood chips and a half-buried concrete slab. He found himself rooted to the spot, a knot forming in his stomach. The past, it seemed, was not as permanent as he'd believed.

“Damn it,” he muttered, the words escaping before he could stop them. His whole frame felt shaky. What a shock.