Gemotions

The scent of crayons and construction paper filled the air, a scent that usually soothed Sarah. Today, it was cloying. Her niece, Maya, was proudly displaying a picture of a stick figure with wings and a crown. “It’s King Floof!” Maya declared, her eyes shining with excitement.

Sarah forced a smile. She found herself picking at a loose thread on her sweater. King Floof. He was supposed to be gone, a relic of her childhood, a friend forgotten in the pursuit of adulthood. But here he was, staring back at her in vivid crayon strokes.

She felt a sudden urge to get away, to be alone. She mumbled something about a headache and promised to play later, backing away from the scene as if the drawing were a live threat. The color drained from her face.