Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. A creative block, a deadline looming, and the gnawing fear of failure. Ethan rubbed his temples, his head throbbing. He needed inspiration, a spark, anything. He felt his hands begin to shake.

His mother, a woman who never threw away anything, had recently passed. He’d gone through her belongings, trying to bring some order to the chaos. Under the guest bed was a storage box that drew his attention. Inside, a record of his childhood. A book report, a history essay, a drawing he had made of a pirate ship. Looking at these things, he could hear his mother's voice, telling him how proud she was of him.