Gemotions

The sight stopped him in his tracks. A hot flush spread across his cheeks. The towering redwood, a symbol of permanence, felled in an afternoon. This was not the way. He felt a profound sense of wrongness, as though a cherished part of his past had been violated.

He slowly walked around the stump, touching it with a gingerly. The texture of the wood felt alien, a rough reminder of its absence. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to find some release for his emotions. His heart began to race.