Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows of the spare bedroom, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. Liam sat on the floor, surrounded by stacks of paper. He had found every report card, every book report, every single drawing he had ever made. All of it carefully organized and preserved.

He recalled his teenage years, the arguments, the slammed doors, the silent treatment. He'd dismissed his mother’s attempts to connect as interference, a smothering of his freedom.

His eyes burned, and he looked away. The air seemed thin, difficult to breathe. He felt a deep, lingering ache, a knot that tightened with every memory that surfaced.

He pushed the papers aside, suddenly unable to look at them any longer.