Gemotions

The world had lost its vibrancy. The sky was a pale imitation of blue, and the sounds of the neighborhood seemed muffled, distant. Ava had been putting off the task of clearing out her childhood home after her mother's passing. It was a chore that felt more like a sentence.

She entered the linen closet, and as she sorted through her mother’s sheets and towels, she stumbled upon a cardboard box. Inside, she found a treasure trove of memories, neatly arranged and organized.

She began to leaf through the files, each labeled with a year and a grade. She found a particularly embarrassing poem from fifth grade, her handwriting sprawling across the page. She closed her eyes for a long moment, a strange numbness washing over her.