Gemotions

The basement, damp and smelling of earth, held the remnants of a life. Jessica, kneeling amidst the boxes, ran her fingers over the cover of a thick binder. "My Childhood." Her mother's handwriting, large and looping, was instantly familiar. Inside, a collection of neatly organized papers from grade school. The work was undeniably hers.

A book report on "The Secret Garden." A spelling test with a single, red "x." A drawing of a cat with a very large smile. She felt a lightness, like the air had changed. She turned a page. The feeling ebbed.

She closed the binder. The basement was cold, and she had a meeting to prepare for. She would have to do this later.