Gemotions

The world outside felt muted. The sky was the color of dishwater, and a persistent drizzle coated everything with a sheen of melancholy. Sarah couldn't shake the persistent tiredness that clung to her. She was supposed to be clearing out her childhood bedroom after her mother’s passing, but the task was proving a monumental challenge.

She sat on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes and forgotten toys. Her eyes landed on a large trunk, tucked away in the corner. Curiosity, and perhaps a need to procrastinate, finally prompted her to open it. It was a treasure trove of the past.

She found it then. A smaller box overflowing with files, each meticulously labeled with her name and a grade. Every homework assignment, every art project, every poorly written book report. A wave of a particular sensation swept over her, a deep and dragging feeling. She slumped back against the trunk, the weight of the past pressing down.