Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the autumn leaves seemed to mock Olivia. Mr. Harrison’s voice was polite, apologetic even, as he explained his desire to remove the towering sycamore. "Safety, you see," he’d said, his smile strained. Olivia’s hand trembled as she poured her tea, the Earl Grey sloshing over the rim of the cup.

She looked at the tree, its leaves a fiery spectacle against the grey sky. It was a symbol of strength and endurance, something she desperately needed to feel right now. The thought of it gone created a sense of emptiness, a void mirroring the one that seemed to grow with each passing day. She closed her eyes, fighting the familiar wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.