Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the strands that had fallen across his brow. He squinted at the freshly turned earth, the scent of sawdust heavy in the air. The oak, his grandfather’s, the one he’d climbed as a boy… gone. A knot of anger coiled in his gut, a heat spreading through his limbs.

He clenched his fists, knuckles white, the muscles in his forearms bunching. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to make someone pay for this violation. The world felt smaller, the horizon closer, as if the air had been sucked out of the space around him. The sun beat down, a merciless judge, witnessing his silent frustration.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, his voice a low growl. The phrase seemed to hang in the air, a hollow echo in the suddenly expansive void. He felt a deep sense of restriction, a pressure mounting within him that made him want to bolt, to escape the sight of the unforgivable void.