Gemotions

The light in the spare room was poor, filtered through dusty blinds. David leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching his sister meticulously sort through the boxes. His mother's room. His mother's treasures. He felt a vague pressure behind his eyes, a tightness in his chest he couldn’t place.

She held up a drawing he had made in kindergarten, a stick figure family with a sun that looked like a poorly drawn lemon. He was faintly amused, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came.

"Anything interesting?" he asked, his voice flat. He expected nothing.

His sister mumbled an acknowledgement and went back to her work. She'd probably call him later to tell him about it. He nodded and left the room.