Gemotions

The old street had changed. The houses were all painted in bright colours. It was very different to what he remembered. He felt a deep shudder as he opened the gate. He wanted to go. He needed to go.

Michael had returned to the house, driven by a desperate need to feel something, anything. He walked towards the back garden. He remembered planting the willow tree.

He stared at the blank space where it had been, the absence a physical weight on his shoulders. A coldness spread through him, and his legs felt weak. He wanted to fall, to simply collapse in the face of what remained.