Gemotions

The tiny, cramped apartment felt enormous. Sarah had just emerged from her mother’s closet, her arms overflowing with history projects, science experiments, and creative writing pieces. She wanted to dance, to spin, to leap into the air.

She found herself giggling uncontrollably, the sound bubbling out of her like a spring. She spread a collection of kindergarten drawings across the living room floor, her eyes wide with wonder. She felt electric. Her cheeks were flushed.

She picked up a particularly disastrous attempt at a papier-mâché volcano, a giggle escaping her lips. Her heart felt as light as a feather. She felt compelled to call her best friend and read every single story to her. She wanted to tell the whole world how wonderful she felt.