Gemotions

The old trunk in the guest room yielded the treasure trove. She felt a prickle of discomfort as she lifted the lid. The contents were surprisingly organized. Papers were carefully filed by year and subject. Each was preserved in a plastic sleeve. She picked up a particularly terrible drawing, a misshapen creature with too many legs, and her breath hitched.

She tracked her mother down to the sunroom, where she was watering her plants. "Mom," she stated flatly, holding the offending artwork, "What is this?"