Gemotions

"Look at this," his sister called, her voice echoing in the echoing echo chamber of the hallway closet. Inside a cardboard box, she unearthed a stack of Lisa's kindergarten art projects. He peered over her shoulder, barely visible in the dark space.

He noticed the crude shapes, the vibrant colors, the inevitable construction paper. A self-portrait, his young face rendered in crayon. He felt no pull. His shoulders slumped.

He knew she would have loved this. She had always been a sentimental person. He closed the lid of the box without commenting. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He turned and walked away.