Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the sun beating down on the corrugated tin roof. Sarah felt a wave of self-reproach wash over her. She'd been putting this off for weeks. Now, here she was, sorting through the previous residents' castoffs.

She stumbled upon a box filled with children's artwork – crayon drawings, finger paintings, and construction paper creations. She paused, examining a particularly vibrant picture of a smiling sun. A sudden, sharp stab of something painful, almost like pity, filled her.

She looked around the room, taking in the clutter and disarray. She couldn't understand why she had let it go on for so long. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, a feeling of inadequacy that she couldn’t quite explain. She wanted to just run away.