Gemotions

He stared at the ground, focusing on the dirt and leaves at his feet, not daring to look up. He had seen the trunk earlier, from the car, and had known. This was a confirmation of his dread. The tree, his tree, was gone.

He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten, his teeth grinding together. He wanted to shout, to scream, to make the world feel the same emptiness he was feeling. He dug his heels into the soil, fighting the urge to run.

He closed his eyes, visualizing the tree's growth, year after year. The image, once comforting, now only sharpened the pain. He reached out, his hand hovering over the stump, before pulling back. He simply stood there, in a state of immobility, his entire existence centered on the wound on the land.