Gemotions

The sheer volume of it – the sheer, overwhelming *amount* of it – almost made David collapse. His father's study was usually a safe space, filled with the comforting smell of old books and pipe tobacco. Now, the room felt suffocating. Boxes overflowed with assignments, the meticulously organized remnants of his entire educational journey. He felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

He picked up a history test, the paper brittle with age. He saw the red ink corrections, the low grade, the shame he’d felt then. The memory, once a buried embarrassment, now felt raw and present. He wanted to scream.

He ran his hand through his hair, a frantic gesture. He couldn't process it. It was too much information, too much of him, laid bare for examination. He had to escape, to breathe.