Gemotions

The letter, the one notifying her, sat crumpled on the passenger seat. She had thrown it there, unable to bear the sight. Now, stepping out of the car, she felt a tremor pass through her. Her legs felt weak. She almost fell.

She looked. The absence throbbed like an open wound. The world felt muted, as if the color had been drained, leaving only shades of gray. The wind, which usually brought a sense of peace, felt cold, a cruel reminder of the emptiness.

She took a shaky breath, then another, trying to regain control. The memory of the tree, of the joy of planting it, was now a source of sharp pain. She clenched her fists, trying to contain the chaos within. The silence was loud, filled with the echo of what was gone.