Gemotions

The photograph, faded and cracked, sat on the passenger seat. In it, a younger him, grinning, holding a small shovel. Beside him, his mother, equally beaming, and a tiny pine tree. He'd decided to visit, just to remind himself of better days, the simpler ones.

The car stopped. He blinked. The house was now divided into apartments, all of which were painted in loud colours. He swallowed, then walked towards the back. The tree was gone. Just a smooth patch of grass where he remembered a towering, majestic pine tree used to stand.

He stood there for a long moment, the photograph clutched in his hand. The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, he just stared, the image blurring through the tears that finally escaped.