Gemotions

The room felt suddenly cold. Michael stared at the box, its contents an unexpected invasion of his privacy. He hadn't expected to find this in the basement. He'd come looking for old fishing rods, not a meticulous record of his teenage angst.

He picked up a tear-stained letter he'd written to a girl in ninth grade, the words embarrassingly raw. His cheeks burned. He felt exposed, vulnerable.

He sat down on the floor, the papers scattered around him. He felt overwhelmed, disoriented. His mother, the person he thought he knew, now seemed a complete mystery. He felt a strange combination of amusement and bewilderment.