Gemotions

The world felt muted. Arthur shuffled through the boxes in the garage, the task of cleaning his childhood home after his father's passing weighing heavily on him. The air was thick with the scent of sawdust and forgotten tools. It was a chore he dreaded.

He unearthed a trunk labeled “School Days.” Inside, he discovered a carefully preserved collection of his schoolwork. The meticulous organization felt alien, a contrast to his typically chaotic life.

He pulled out a particularly disastrous science project from seventh grade. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the poorly constructed volcano and its accompanying, barely legible report. A sigh escaped him, and he sank down onto an upturned bucket. This was not the feeling he expected.