Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a hollow echo of happier times. The world felt muffled, distant. He saw Mrs. Chen approaching, her face a carefully constructed facade of friendly concern. He knew what she was going to say.

“That old willow is a bit of a nuisance, isn't it?” she began, her tone gentle. He found himself wanting to scream, to lash out, to destroy something. The knot in his stomach tightened.

He clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain still. He simply nodded, unable to speak. The sun felt too bright on his skin. He closed his eyes, the image of the willow leaves dancing in the wind burned into his mind.