Gemotions

The old oak tree in the front yard, the one she’d carved her initials into with her first boyfriend, was gone. Just a stump remained, a jagged reminder. He felt the familiar weight pressing down on him. A crushing feeling.

"It’s about time," his father had said, his voice flat, when he had told him. He was right, of course. Everything in his life had been a series of mistakes, a parade of poor choices. He felt the shame rising in his throat, a bitter tide.

He wandered through the empty rooms, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay. Each footprint left a scar on the freshly laid dirt. He felt like he had nothing more to contribute to the world.