Gemotions

She slammed the car door, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the silent cul-de-sac. It was a gesture born of frustration, of a need to release something, anything, of the pressure building inside. Her breath hitched. The empty space felt like a betrayal. They'd promised they wouldn't, she had insisted.

Her fists clenched and unclenched. She paced, back and forth, the gravel crunching under her feet. Her nails bit into her palms. The clean, flat surface of the remaining stump mocked her, a cruel joke. The air felt charged, thick with an unspoken fury.

She wanted to tear at the ground, to unearth the roots, to find some trace of what had been lost. Her head throbbed. Tears welled, blurring her vision. She stumbled, collapsing onto the grass, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.