Gemotions

"Mom, can I borrow the car?" Sarah asked, popping her head into her mother's office. The question died in her throat.

Her mother, usually composed and organized, was sitting amidst a sea of paper, looking utterly bewildered. Sarah blinked, then took in the scene. File folders, labeled in her mother’s meticulous hand: “Sarah’s First Grade Scribbles,” “Sarah’s Science Projects,” “Sarah’s… Poetry?”

She stepped inside, feeling a strange disconnect. Her mother looked up, her face a mask of something. Almost an apology?

"I... I didn't know," Sarah said, her voice faint. She reached out, touching a folded origami crane she'd made in sixth grade. It was perfectly preserved. The reality of it all was beginning to feel heavy.