Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, catching in Leo’s throat. He coughed, waving a hand in front of his face. Sunlight sliced through a gap in the boarded-up window, illuminating swirling motes of dust and the overflowing cardboard boxes. He’d been tasked with clearing out his mother’s belongings after she’d passed.

He lifted the lid of the first box, a wave of childhood memories washing over him. Toys, old photographs, and then… a stack of perfectly preserved school projects. His handwriting, spidery and earnest, stared back at him from a book report on *Moby Dick*. He chuckled, the sound tight in his chest.

His fingers brushed against the cover of a science project, a meticulously crafted volcano erupting in painted fury. He remembered the smell of the vinegar and baking soda, the thrill of the faux lava flow. He picked it up, feeling a tremor run through him, a strange heat blooming in his stomach. He traced the contours of the painted mountain, a growing pressure building in his lower regions.