Gemotions

He moved slowly, deliberately, the attic's silence broken only by the soft rustle of paper. He'd decided to tackle this project after a particularly stressful week. He was searching for his old baseball glove, but his mother's meticulous records had other ideas. "David - Grades 1-12" stared back at him. He sighed and pulled it down.

He unfolded a faded art project, a construction paper collage of a rocket ship, from his kindergarten days. He remembered the smell of paste. He looked at the crooked edges and the slightly off-center placement of the windows. He had almost forgotten.

A memory surface. He smiled. He wasn't in any rush.