Gemotions

The sun had sunk below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, when John discovered the desecration. His heart was like lead. He’d poured his energy into that maple, a tiny thing when he was a boy, now an enormous presence.

He felt the familiar burn of tears, but he pushed them back. He wouldn't let despair win. He would find out who was responsible. He made his way to his shed, grabbed his tools, and began to work, his movements precise and purposeful. He was not one to give up when challenged.

He would repair the wound and bring some kind of justice.