Gemotions

She found the trove tucked away in a cedar chest, a dark, heavy thing that smelled like old wood and mothballs. Each page, each crumbled worksheet, was encased in a plastic sleeve. Her stomach twisted as she picked up a particularly embarrassing drawing—a lopsided self-portrait with a single, gigantic tooth.

She felt a flush creep up her neck. Her mother, bless her heart, had always been a touch… overbearing. This, though, this was beyond.

She walked into the kitchen, the chest's contents clutched in her arms. Her mom was humming, happily stirring something on the stove. "Mom," she said, her voice strained. "What is this?"