Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows of the spare bedroom as Chloe sorted through the boxes. There it was, her first grade art project – a clumsy, yet vibrant, rendition of her family. Her mother had kept it all. Every single thing.

Chloe’s breath hitched in her chest. She picked up a history essay, a report on the American Revolution. The handwriting was neat, the ideas earnest. She'd forgotten how dedicated she'd been.

A wave of something akin to amazement crashed over her. She imagined her mother, meticulously organizing these relics of her childhood, saving them. It was a tangible expression of care. A sensation she felt as she delicately held a crumbling origami crane she made in third grade.