Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as Elias approached the park. His breath hitched in his throat, a sudden tightness squeezing his chest. He clutched the faded photograph in his hand, the small sapling a barely noticeable speck beside his younger self. The tree was the reason he'd come, a pilgrimage of sorts after all these years away.

He quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing on the empty path. Each stride seemed to amplify the drumming in his ears. He scanned the familiar landscape, a knot forming in his stomach. The space felt different, wider, somehow…wrong.

His gaze landed where the oak had stood. A jagged, splintered stump remained, the wood raw and exposed. A cold dread seeped into his bones, and he felt a tremor in his hands as the photograph slipped from his grip, fluttering to the ground.