Gemotions

Sophia sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of neatly organized papers. She felt a lightness in her chest, a physical sensation she hadn't anticipated. It was her mother who had lovingly documented every drawing, every essay, every math test.

She found a poem she'd written in eighth grade, a terrible, angsty thing about unrequited love. She chuckled, remembering the dramatic flair with which she’d composed it. Her mother had never mocked it. Instead, she had offered comforting words.

The feeling within her intensified. She decided she wanted to spend the whole weekend with her, helping with whatever chores she needed done.