Gemotions

The familiar scent of pine needles, which used to greet her on this walk, was gone. She quickened her pace, the rhythmic crunch of her boots on the gravel path a frantic counterpoint to the turmoil inside her. This couldn’t be right.

She stopped short, her breath catching in her throat. The clearing was empty. Her vision swam. A buzzing filled her ears. She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to ground herself.

A voice, too loud, too high, escaped her. "What... what have they done?" The words seemed to hang in the air, mocking her helplessness. She felt a profound and overwhelming sense of violation.