Gemotions

The scent of old paper and fading ink filled Daniel's lungs. He’d stumbled upon the collection quite by accident, while searching for Christmas decorations. His mother, he realized, had meticulously archived every single scrap of paper he’d ever produced for school.

He picked up a test from his freshman year, covered in red ink. He remembered the feeling of dread as he got it back, certain he had failed. Looking at it now, he realized it was a B-. He grinned to himself.

His mother’s constant presence, her quiet support, it all seemed to coalesce in this single box. He’d never fully appreciated it before. He decided to call her later.

He was going to tell her he loved her.