Gemotions

The morning sun cast long shadows across the living room, but the brightness didn't seem to reach him. He felt as though he were wading through molasses. Grief, he was coming to realize, manifested in unexpected ways. His mother's things felt like a burden, a tangible representation of her absence. He had to face it, though.

He opened the large trunk, his hands clumsy and uncoordinated.

He was surprised to see his own name written in a familiar cursive on the side of a box. Inside, he found a collection of papers dating back to his earliest schooling. The careful drawings, the awkward sentences, the test scores. It made him feel something… different, and his shoulders seemed to relax slightly.