Gemotions

"Just a quick sort," his sister had said. "It won't take long." He stood in the spare bedroom, the walls of which seemed to be closing in on him. His sister, with her relentlessly cheerful demeanor, had already flitted away to "make tea," leaving him to the task. The task, of course, was sifting through the remains of their childhood.

His sister returned with the tea, her smile wide, but he barely glanced at her. He saw a neatly labeled box: "Schoolwork." His shoulders slumped.

He picked up a math quiz, the answers scrawled in his childish hand. The memories, unwelcome and insistent, flooded his mind. He wanted to scream.