Gemotions

The basement felt colder than usual. David surveyed the organized chaos of his mother's meticulous archiving. Boxes labeled "Elementary School," "Middle School," and "High School" lined the walls. Each one a testament to his mother’s dedication, and a source of mounting internal pressure.

He picked up a science project he’d completely forgotten about: a volcano made of papier-mâché, erupting with baking soda and vinegar. The thought of all the effort she put into saving this stuff made a tightness grip his chest. He felt suffocated by the weight of all the memories she’d preserved.

He let out a long sigh, running a hand over his face. He'd come down here seeking some clarity, but instead, he felt more confused than ever. He abruptly turned and walked out, leaving the boxes undisturbed.