Gemotions

The rain had finally stopped, and the air was washed clean. David leaned against the porch railing, breathing deeply. The world seemed fresh and new, washed of all its troubles. A perfect day for sorting through his dad’s things. He felt no hurry, no pressure. He was in a good place.

The first box he opened contained old tools, rusty but functional. The second, more of the same. He was starting to feel a bit restless, when he noticed a small, leather-bound briefcase tucked away in the back of the closet. He pulled it out, it was light, but full of something.

Inside, were school report cards, meticulously preserved. Alongside them, essays penned in a neat, unwavering script. The familiar words, the small errors, the teacher’s red pen markings, the things that made up a childhood. He felt a soft ache, a kind of yearning. He smiled. He wasn't sure why, but the contents made him feel content.