Gemotions

He found them stacked neatly in a cedar chest, protected from the ravages of time. John's fingers, stained with ink from a project he'd been putting off, lightly touched a faded crayon drawing. A misshapen heart, a rainbow of colors, a childish signature scrawled across the bottom: "John." He sighed, the sound barely audible in the quiet room. The musty scent of the wood and the ghosts of old memories did little to stir him.

A list of his favorite things as a child, written in a child’s perfect hand. It included dinosaurs, pizza, and the color blue. He remembered liking all those things, but the memory was like a distant echo. The paper crackled as he folded it, ready to replace it in the chest.

His mother, a woman he saw weekly, would have loved this trip down memory lane. He’d probably tell her about it later. His phone buzzed, a new message. He glanced at the notification, then turned back to the chest.