Gemotions

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when Eleanor found them. Her mother had passed away a year ago, and now Eleanor was tasked with the morbid duty of sorting through her belongings. She found them in a locked closet in the guest room.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door. Stacks of files lined the walls, each one meticulously labeled with his name and the school year. She felt a strange tingling in her fingertips.

She pulled out a handwritten poem, her own words, but feeling…foreign. The feeling was difficult to comprehend, but it made her want to vomit. She dropped it and slowly backed away from the closet.