Gemotions

The sun, as bright as it was, felt like a distant stranger. Michael moved through his childhood home with a reluctance he couldn’t quite explain. His father was at work, and he was left to sort through his mother’s possessions. He felt like he was walking through molasses.

He found a large, wooden chest in the attic. The air inside smelled of old paper and mothballs. Inside, neatly organized, were boxes upon boxes of… everything. Every single school project, every essay, every test.

He pulled out a folder from sixth grade. He remembered the feeling of failure attached to a certain history test. The feeling rushed back to him. The joy of finding a treasure had faded, replaced by an awareness of the many things lost.