Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut wood, mingled with the scent of damp earth, filled the air, a combination that made her stomach churn. She had woken up feeling ill, that hollow feeling. She'd managed to get dressed, but the effort left her weak and shaky.

She sat on the front porch, the sunlight beating down on her face. Each movement was labored. Each breath was a struggle. The tree had fallen on the very day that the important thing happened. She kept running the events in her head, the endless loop.

She pressed her palms into her eyes, trying to block out the world. The world felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. She wished she could just disappear.