Gemotions

He found himself standing at the edge of his childhood backyard, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The walk here had felt interminable, each stride a chore. The tree was gone. He’d known it was probably coming, the house had been sold, the new owners weren't sentimental. Still, the sight of the vacant space stole the wind from his lungs.

His shoulders slumped, a gesture of defeat. He hadn’t realized how much of himself he had tied to the living thing. It was just a tree, he thought, but the thought offered little comfort. His eyes felt gritty, as if he’d been staring into the sun for too long.

He remembered the endless summer days beneath its shade, the laughter, the secrets shared. Now, the space was an open wound in the manicured lawn. He kicked at a loose stone, a dull thud against the silence. It felt like all the joy had been carved away with the trunk.