Gemotions

The scent of cedar and old paper filled the small room. Thomas was supposed to be working, but he’d been distracted for hours, lost in the stacks of his old school assignments his mother had so carefully preserved. He’d found his first love letter, a clumsy, misspelled declaration of affection.

He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that reached his eyes. He found a report card, a reminder of a time when he could do whatever he wanted. He felt his face heat up, his palms becoming slick with sweat.

He pictured her face, her expression when she learned of his discovery. He wanted to be near her, to feel her hand on his shoulder. He wanted to hear her story. It was as if he could no longer breathe without her.